


Trust is Never Easy

by Msmadamemeg



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Alternating, Romance, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 58,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8687263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msmadamemeg/pseuds/Msmadamemeg
Summary: Robert Joseph MacCready didn't know what to expect when he signed on as a merc for Madalyn. A few months into their escapades, she returns from the Institute different but determined to help him. Not used to being able to trust someone, MacCready slowly finds himself getting closer to Madalyn than he ever thought he would. *Spoiler alert, for main and side quests!*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Just some idea that came to mind, trying to fill in the gaps and whatnot from the game. Hope you like it!  
>  
> 
> ***In-game spoilers will happen! This is after the events of Institutionalized***

_How the hell did I end up here?_ MacCready thinks to himself, staring at the water flowing under his feet. Hancock continues to talk in his ear and he nods every few seconds in appropriate spots, but the ghoul doesn't seem to notice MacCready’s lack of focus on the conversation. That or he doesn't care. He has nothing against the ghoul or any of the other people wandering around the settlement behind them. He knows it's a nice set-up that they have, and it wasn't easy for them to do. He knows it's a sanctuary (he hides a smirk at his own pun) and many would kill to be able to have it. But what he doesn't understand is why he hasn't left yet. 

_Caps_. He tells himself. His mind travels to the pack in the room he claimed as his own, hidden under the bed, filled with caps and ammo. Just the way he likes it.

His mind flashes back to two months ago, when he was still sitting in the back of the Third Rail, waiting for someone to be willing to hire him on as help. When he was confronted by Winlock and Barnes, and when Madalyn came and bought his services. 

It seems like so long ago, now, but it hasn't been. He found himself in the company of a woman on a mission. Well, multiple missions. She dragged him through raider dens, ghoul nests, super mutant territory, gunner territory. They cleared settlements for the Minutemen, completed mundane tasks for the Brotherhood and infiltrated the Railroad. He became less and less surprised at the things she sprung on him, and slowly began to learn about her without revealing much of himself. When he finally started to trust her, she left him for the Glowing Sea. 

MacCready was mad when she told him she was leaving; leaving without him and going someplace so dangerous. But as he watched her stomp away in her power armor with the old detective on her heels, all that came out of his mouth was, “I’ll be here.”

She returned a week later, stumbling across the bridge with Valentine behind her. When she reached past the barricade the armor popped open with a loud hiss and she fell out and nearly fell to the ground. She was bedridden for a few days in solitary while all the rads left her system completely. In that time it took all of MacCready’s willpower to not bash his head against the wall in boredom. When she finally gathered him to leave, he just smiled and said, “I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about me.” 

She only laughed and dragged him out of the settlement as they headed toward Diamond City. That was a month ago. They continued to travel and she would check into the Railroad frequently, getting updates on a project they were working on together. Less than a week ago she received a message from them and nearly ran to their location. 

Along the way he was thinking about talking to her, bringing up the thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. Eventually he decided to speak up. “You know, it's nice to be on the open road. Goodneighbor was starting to wear out its welcome,” he started, hesitantly glancing at her face. 

She glanced at him with a curious expression. “I wouldn't know, never lived there.”

He laughed lightly and let his mouth run, “You're better off for it. Trust me. Lets put it this way; can't get much rest when you're sleeping with one eye open. Still,” he shrugged, “It was the best way for me to set up shop.” He didn’t miss a beat and kept talking, eyes not on her to avoid taking in her expression. “Diamond City's goons would have run me out of town and wandering the Commonwealth alone isn't the brightest plan when you're hard up for caps.”

“Are caps really that important to you?” she asked. He shot a glance at her and saw her gaze elsewhere, looking toward their path ahead. 

“Right now, I need every cap I can get,” he told her honestly. 

"What's wrong?” she asked, her tone changing. MacCready paused in his step, looking to her and opening his mouth to speak. Before he could she stopped him, “Wait, we’re here.”

She had ran ahead, leading him to a space filled with generators and large machines he couldn't make heads or tails of. He watched her walk up to Desdemona and Deacon, talking together closely and looking up at the largest machine. After a moment she had stopped and walked up to MacCready. 

“I'm sorry. I know you had something you had to talk about but there's something I need to tell you first…” she started. He sat quietly as she explained what they were doing and the plan to get her into the Institute. He had known already she had been looking for a way to get her son back, but this was new. 

“You're going into the Institute?” he asked before he could stop himself. She nodded and he shook his head. “This is the craziest plan you've ever had.”

She smiled slightly. “I know. But this is the only chance I have at finding him. I need to take it.”

MacCready sighed. “Okay, lets go then.”

“I'm going alone,” she told him, stopping him as he went to walk forward. He froze and his blood ran cold. He didn't turn to look at her, instead he chose to glare at the humming machines. “The transporter… it's a one way trip for one.”

His grip on his rifle tightens. “Boss…”

“I know. I should have told you sooner, but I knew you wouldn't like it either way. After I go, I would like it if you went back to Sanctuary. I know you find it boring but I trust you to help keep an eye on them, help Preston if he needs it or if any settlements need help. And if I get back we can head out once more…” she said, not moving from behind him. 

MacCready turned on his heel to face her. “When,” he corrected. She raised an eyebrow in question, not getting his meaning. “When you get back.”

She smiled her persuasive smile and nodded slightly, “When.”

She walked past him and towards the machine, a hand reaching out to graze his arm as she passed. He watched her step onto the platform and Desdemona spoke loudly to her over the hum, another man yelling at the two from behind a console. He watched Madalyn merely nod in confirmation and a countdown was started. 

MacCready felt a presence at his side and turned to see Deacon standing beside him silently. The scene before them was reflected on the man’s sunglasses and MacCready turned back to see her staring at him, a small smile on her face, before a beam of blue light struck with a loud crack resounding in the air. When it all cleared she was gone. 

MacCready stood there silently, staring at the spot she had disappeared in while the others cleaned up around him. Eventually Deacon approached him, talking quietly, “She’ll be fine, man. She always finds her way out of any situation.”

MacCready merely grunted in response, not moving from his spot. After a moment Deacon tried again. “It will be a while before she makes it back. Best we head out to Sanctuary where we know she'll head to first.”

Eventually MacCready relented and the two made the journey back north in silence. When they reached the settlement they were received with many questions that they only had vague answers to. After left alone MacCready retreated to the room designated his and didn't leave until the next day. 

Four days they've been in Sanctuary. Four days without a word as to her whereabouts. The second day back no one brought up her absence but the constant glances at the bridge and quiet dinners spoke all worries. Preston had been giving MacCready mundane tasks to complete and as of today he got bored, wandering to the wall by the river and sitting alone to ponder his next move. That was when Hancock had found him and hasn't left his side since, telling some random story about a crazy trip he had the other day. 

“You there man?” Hancock asks, pulling MacCready out of his reverie. 

“Yeah, Hancock,” MacCready replies, knowing the ghoul knows the truth. 

Hancock studies him in silence for a moment before saying, “You can leave if you want to. She'll understand why.”

“I know,” MacCready says simply. 

Hancock huffs a laugh. “Then what's bothering you?”

“Are you really asking me that?” MacCready asks. 

A wicked smile spreads across Hancock’s face, “You can thank the Jet for that, my friend. Makes me think I actually care about what's bothering you.”

MacCready reaches up and touches a hand to his heart. “You say the sweetest things.” He receives a grin in return and MacCready refrains himself from rolling his eyes. “I am bored, you got that much right. But I'm going to wait around a little bit longer for her to come back before I leave.”

“I'm surprised you stayed this long,” Hancock tells him. 

“I'm surprised you're here at all,” MacCready shoots back. 

Hancock shrugs. “What's not to like about this place? And besides, like I told her when I decided to come, it's nice to have a change in scenery and not be stuck in that same building everyday. This guarantees some excitement. It's not like I don't stop by Goodneighbor every now and then to check up, anyhow.”

MacCready nods, but doesn't respond, eyes back on the water below them. Hancock pats him on the back, a little roughly, before standing and leaving him alone. MacCready holds back a sigh and allows his mind to wander once more, eyes searching the horizon for signs of movement. _Where are you?_

\- 

Madalyn steps out onto the street outside the Old North Church, her modded laser gun held tightly in her hands, ears straining to hear any nearby enemies. Walking the abandoned, destroyed streets she forced her mind to stay focused. Once she had allowed her mind to wander and remember what used to be, but she learned from that mistake. The scar on her hip reminds her of that.

She had teleported to the outside of Goodneighbor from the Institute, mind set upon making the Railroad her first stop. After everything she had learned and all that she had to process, she knew it would be best to stop there first to get the questions out of the way. She answered many as vaguely as possible, which frustrated Desdemona, but the other woman ended up pleased with the information she gleaned from Madalyn. She was told Deacon had left with MacCready to go to Sanctuary and hadn't returned. Since it was late in the day, she crashed on a communal mattress and tried to sleep before starting early the next day. Whether she actually slept was a different story all together. 

As she walks the deserted streets she keeps close to the sides of the buildings, peering around each corner for waiting foes. The silence crowds her ears, suffocating her senses as she crosses the bridge and makes her heading northwest. She misses the sound of soft footsteps behind her, the comfort of knowing someone has her back. She got so used to traveling with a companion that now, as she walks alone, the emptiness strikes her hard. 

She keeps to the road, occasionally looking through the scope of her gun, checking the path ahead for danger. She constantly checks her flank, feeling insecure with her back open and unwatched. Diamond City Radio plays lightly on her Pip-Boy and in between songs she listens to updates from Travis “Lonely” Miles, trying to catch anything new. Nothing he says appears alarming, most of being repeats of events she already heard or participated in herself. 

The sun slowly makes its way across the sky and by the time she nears Concord dusk begins to peek around the horizon behind her. Madalyn keeps an eye out for raiders, though she hadn't seen any in the area for a while. As she enters the heart of the city she hears a crash from a nearby building. 

Madalyn raises her laser gun, eyes searching the direction it came. She approaches the shop slowly, crouched low, peering through the broken windows. She pans down, looking for a ghoul or a mole rat. The sound of a heavy breath reaches her ears and she freezes, feeling the ground beneath her shake as a heavy footfall lands. Black scales come into sight and Madalyn bites back a curse, pushing herself lower to the ground. 

She backs up slowly, eyes trained on the building as she walks backwards in retreat. More footsteps pound into the ground as the Deathclaw wanders the abandoned shop. Her foot connects with a stray can, knocking the tin object back and into a fallen pole, the sound echoing down the street. 

Madalyn stops cold, eyes widening in fear as she continues to stare. The steps stop and she hears a loud sniff, the Deathclaw smelling the air. It inhales sharply and she knows it caught her scent. 

Madalyn reaches into her pack and pulls out a grenade, turning and running with the grenade in hand. The Deathclaw roars, sensing the hunt, and bursts through the shops already destroyed windowpane in pursuit. She weaves through the streets, trying to gain as much ground as possible. At one curve she tears the pin off the grenade and with a glance behind her to judge the distance, tosses it in the direction of the Deathclaw. 

The grenade explodes and the sound is followed with a roar of frustration. She spares another glance and sees a large wound upon the side, the scales glistening red in the fading sunlight. 

She leaves Concord and follows the road north, occasionally shootings behind her at her pursuer. She knows her shots either miss or barely make an impact, but she continues to make an effort regardless. 

The Red Rocket sign comes into sight and Madalyn searches for any sign of the settlers. She sees one standing guard at a post and yells, “Get inside! Quickly!”

Luckily he listened as he turned at her voice and made way for the building behind him. He grabs the other settlers along the way, all of them running into the building and shutting the door behind them, completely silent. Madalyn turns once more to fire, to keep its attention on her, and her eyes widen when she sees it a mere few feet away. 

Knowing she won't have much of a chance, she slows and aims directly for its face, firing multiple rounds in a row. The Deathclaw roars and reaches out, grabbing Madalyn around the waist and shaking her violently. She continues to shoot with one hand while the other reaches for a stimpak from her bag. Her hand fumbles and she loses her grip as it throws her a few feet away. 

Madalyn’s head hits with a hard thump, the world around her spinning. Pain cries out at her from her waist and back, and she feels the warm blood seeping through her clothes from her sides. The Deathclaw slowly approaches and Madalyn struggles to her feet, hissing at the pain. She tucks her left arm around her stomach, trying to keep pressure on her wounds. She grimaces in pain but grits her teeth, holding back a laugh when she sees it had thrown her closer to the bridge. She hears shouts from the other sides and blurry figures running through the settlement, an alarm eventually wailing from across the river. 

Madalyn pulls all of her energy and runs. The ground shakes beneath her as the Deathclaw pursues and once her feet hit wood she fears it will break under the weight the beast. Once she reaches the peak the sound of turrets firing greets her and she feels the gust of air as the bullets fly past. The Deathclaw roars once more in anger and others begin to fire at the monster from behind the barricades. 

When she lands on hard ground once more and she passes the barricade, the sound of the dying Deathclaw behind her, she allows her legs to fail and she falls to her knees. Voices call her name and she tries to find the source; she feels hands clutching at her arms and she attempts to see the person in front of her. She tries to smile assuringly but fails as everything goes black


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer*   
> I use some of the dialogue from the game, but I do not take credit. That is property of Bethesda Games. I merely use it as a part of the story to keep it (mostly) canon compliant and as a plot tool.   
> *Thank you*

“-be awake by now?” a familiar voice asks. Deacon? 

“Give her some more time. She took quite a beating and seemed like she hadn't slept in days,” comes the reply. She knows the grumbly voice to belong to Nick Valentine. _That's an understatement,_ Madalyn thinks, remembering how she couldn't attempt to sleep in the Institute, not trusting the place to be safe while she slept. 

“I don't doubt that,” comes a mumble from her side. MacCready. 

Madalyn takes the time in their pause of conversation to try and take stock of her injuries. Her head throbs in pain, primarily from the back where it collided with the ground. Tight bandages are wrapped around her waist, too much pain emanating from that area to be able to discern any specifics. Her knees feel scratchy from where she had grazed them in her haste to stand and a different bandage is wrapped around the top of her right bicep. Madalyn holds back a sigh, not entirely unaccustomed to waking with so many injuries. 

She tries to open her eyes and closes them immediately, bright sunlight bursting through the open window and onto her face. “Madalyn?” Valentine asks. 

She turns her head away from the window, slowly opening her eyes and giving them time to adjust. Her vision clears and she sees the detective kneeling beside the bed, face mere inches from her own. When he sees her conscious he steps back, smiling lightly. “Morning kid. How's the head?”

“Been better,” Madalyn croaks through a very dry throat. 

A bottle of purified water is shoved into her face and she takes it greedily, eyes following the arm holding the bottle to a pair of sunglasses. “Hey Deacon,” she smiles. He surprises her when he just nods silently, mouth tightly closed. She raises an eyebrow in question but gets no response from him, his eyes hidden behind the glasses. “How long was I out?”

“Just a day,” Valentine replies.

“Just?” she asks, turning back to him in surprise. 

"You're lucky MacCready here was quick enough to stab you with all the stims he could get his hands on. If anyone would have taken longer who knows what shape you'd be in now.” She follows the direction he pointed and squints in the sunlight, trying to see the figure leaning against the wall beside the window. Through the bright rays she sees the mercenary staring silently, mouth tightly closed, eyes boring into her. “Thank you,” she says, receiving the barest of a nod in return. 

Madalyn, suddenly feeling uneasy with the three pairs of eyes staring at her, tries to pull herself into a sitting position. She grimaces in pain and holds back a groan at the protests from her sides. Nick leans forward, going to help, but she shakes her head. “The Deathclaw?” 

“Didn't even make it halfway across the bridge. You had it mostly dead by the time the turrets got to it,”  
Nick answers. Madalyn nods, still confused at the silence from the other two in the room. 

“I’m sure Preston’s waiting to bombard me with questions,” she says with a sigh. 

“He did request to be told the moment you woke up,” Valentine confirms. 

"Should just get that over with, then,” Madalyn says. 

Valentine nods and places a hand on her shoulder, smiling slightly before walking away. Deacon stands at the foot of the best for a moment, seeming to want to say something, but just flashes a quick smile and leaves the room. Madalyn glances at MacCready, seeing him still leaning against the wall. 

After a breath of silence he finally speaks, “You sure know how to make an entrance, don't you?”

“Would you expect anything else from me?” she says with a smile. 

He shakes his head, "Would have been disappointed if you just walked through the barricade like anyone else.” Madalyn laughs, cringing at the pain, and his face quickly flashes to concern. Before she can think about it his expression reverts back to his normal smirk. The shuffle of footsteps pull their attention to the door where Preston stands with Dogmeat at his feet, concern and relief on his face. MacCready pushes himself away from the wall and says to Madalyn, “I'll catch you later.”

She nods and watches him walk past Preston, the two men nodding to each other in greeting. She looks to Dogmeat and smiles, “Come here, boy.”

Dogmeat jumps to action, pushing past Preston and into the room. He hops onto the bed and gives her an affectionate nudge with his nose. She smiles and pets him as he lies at her side, head on her leg. Preston steps closer into the room, hovering by the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“I've been worse,” Madalyn tells him honestly. 

He smiles lightly, “I'm glad you're okay, General. I was almost going to send search parties because we were nearing a week without you. But then you showed up with a Deathclaw in tow.”

Madalyn smiles, “That wouldn't have been necessary. I told you where I was going and there was a chance I wouldn't come back.”

“Forgive me, General, but I would've had to try at least,” Preston insists. 

“I know,” she sighs. “I wouldn't expect anything different from you,”

He smiles, taking the comment as a compliment. But his expression then turns serious, eyes sad. “I take it there was no good news? You were able to walk out alive, at least?”

Madalyn looks down to Dogmeat, frowning. She contemplates for a moment before deciding on what to say. “Preston what I'm about to tell you… you can't tell anyone else. I trust you, you're the first person I met here, you helped me build this place into what it is now. I don't know how things would have gone if I would've met someone else after leaving the vault.” He goes to argue but she stops him, “I mean it. But I'm serious when I say no one can know. I don't even know what I want to say to Codsworth about this…”

“You have my word,” Preston tells her. 

Madalyn nods, knowing that to be true. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “It wasn't ten years that passed between when Shaun was taken and when I woke up… it was sixty.”

She peeks her eye open to look at Preston, seeing him staring at her in shock. “Sixty? That's so long… did you find out what happened to him?”

“He's alive. It's a long story but basically he's the one in charge now. They raised him, taught him everything about them and their ideals. He's been running the Institute for years now. He told me he wants me to join them… I didn't give an answer, but I went along with it for the most part. He had me take a tour, meet some people. Even gave me the ability to teleport in and out whenever I want. I left when I could because… I don't know what to do. I'm so confused and lost,” she admits. Everything came out in a rush, all as quick as she could. She doesn't look at him to avoid his reaction, instead focusing on Dogmeat in her lap. She knows he's always hated the Institute, and she isn't sure exactly how he would react. 

He says nothing. Eventually Madalyn looks in his direction, thrown off by the silence. When she looks in his face she sees nothing but sorrow and pity. Eventually he says, “I'm sorry, General. That's awful. I understand why you would want to keep that a secret. I know this can't be easy on you.”

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Thank you, Preston. That means a lot to me.” 

“Of course. You know I'll always have your back, whatever you need,” he tells her. She smiles and nods, a fraction of the weight lifted off of her shoulders. He smiles back and turns slightly. “I'll let you rest for now. I'm sure you need it. Once you're feeling up to it, if you want a distraction, a settlement sent word they need help with some raiders.”

“Of course,” Madalyn holds back a groan at the mention. “I'll get right on it.”

Preston flashes her one last smile before leaving the room. Madalyn sighs and sinks back into the pillow behind her, grimacing in pain from the movement. She groans loudly, frustration at current events bubbling out of her. She stares out the window, petting Dogmeat slowly, listening to the sounds of the settlement getting ready for the night as she tries to plan her next move.

\- 

MacCready walks into the rec building, greeting the others inside and setting himself on a couch. Diamond City Radio plays, filling the building with soft music along with the sound of others holding conversations at tables and couches. MacCready sighs and brings his beer to his lips, taking a long swig and watching the others, alone on the couch.

“Did she tell you what happened?” he hears Piper ask Valentine. 

“No,” comes the reply. “And don't go prodding her with questions. The kid has been through enough.”

“Did you even ask her?” Piper pushes. 

“Drop it, Piper,” Deacon says. MacCready hides his surprise at the harsh tone behind Deacon’s command. He takes another drink and spares a glance at the table where the three sit. He sees Piper scowling at Deacon, but she doesn't reply. Nick is staring at Deacon, trying to read him, but gets nothing from behind the sunglasses. 

Piper sees MacCready staring and she smiles at him, standing and leaving the two behind. She sits on the couch beside him and says, “So, did you get anything from Blue?”

“No, and I didn't ask. She'll tell us what she wants to tell us,” MacCready replies. She leans back on the couch with a huff and MacCready downs the rest of his drink, standing. “If you wanna know so bad ask her yourself.”

“I'll pass,” she replies, stretching herself across the couch. MacCready flashes her a sarcastic smile and she beams back at him, watching him leave the building. 

MacCready steps onto the street, dark sky looming overhead. He walks the empty street slowly, staring at the stars, recalling the names of only a few. He heads for the building with his room, an abandoned home he shares with Hancock, and Danse, whenever the paladin decides to stop by and stay for longer than a day. 

He enters the candlelit house and walks into the hallway, heading for his room in the back. He opens the door and freezes when he sees a figure sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. MacCready’s hand reaches for his knife but he stops when he hears a familiar voice. “Wait, it's just me.”

“What the fu- heck, Boss,” MacCready exclaims. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Sorry,” she laughs. “I didn't mean to.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was bored and it was too quiet,” she tells him, suddenly appearing hesitant in her decision. 

“So you came to my room?” MacCready asks, a slight smirk coming to his face. 

Madalyn smiles softly, “I figured you wouldn't mind the company. And I knew if I went to anyone else they'd be fussing over me the whole time.”

MacCready acts hurt, “What, do you think I don't care about you?”

“I know you respect privacy and distance,” she tells him with complete honesty. 

He nods, “I won't argue with that.”

She pats the bed beside her and he kicks off his boots, pulling off his duster and accessories. He sits on the foot of the bed, facing her, legs crossed beneath him. He studies her, taking stock once more of her injuries. He knows her waist was torn by the grip of the Deathclaw and her head was beaten badly when she landed on the road. A bullet from the turrets had grazed her upper bicep, tearing a hole completely through the arm. The stimpaks had helped with immediate care of the injuries but he knew they were still bad when they were dressed. But she sits staring at him like any other day, unfazed by her injuries. 

"How were things while I was gone?” she asks him.

“Boring,” he replies, leaning back and onto his elbows. “Had to go help Abernathy with some ferals that were getting too close for comfort. Then went to Starlight Drive-In to help with some Super Mutants. That was it, really.”

“Wow, thanks Mac. That… that was very nice of you to do that. You didn't have to.”

"Part of the job, right?" he asks, giving her a teasing smile. 

She smiles back and then a curious look overcomes her. “You were saying something to me before I left? Something about needing caps?”

"We don't have to talk about it now,” he waves her off. “It can wait.”

“I don't see why it needs to,” she pushes. “Not like there's anything going on right now.” When he doesn't respond she pushes further, “Tell me. What's going on?”

MacCready sighs and runs a hand over his face, peeking at her before finally speaking. “I don't usually go around sharing stuff but you've been pretty straight with me, so I'm going to be straight with you. It's those two ash… those two idiots you saw me talking to at the Third Rail. Winlock and Barnes. They'd been hounding me for months and it was driving off clients. No one wants to touch me when they hear I used to run with the Gunners. I figured if I could get enough caps together, maybe I could buy them out.”

“That… makes sense,” Madalyn says, confused by the conversation at hand. 

MacCready holds back a scoff, “It might, but even if I round up enough caps, I'm not sure how I'm going to pull it off. Winlock and Barnes have a small army of Gunners with them at all times. They might decide to just keep the caps and put a bullet in my head for good measure.” He sees her wince slightly and wants to comment, but doesn't. He keeps going, “If I set up a place to meet them, I'm sure they'd roll in with everyone they've got. Unless… maybe you and I could pay them a little visit and put an end to them before they even realize what's going on. And before you say anything, just know that I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't trust you.”

She tightens her lips into a thin line, nodding and looking down at the bed. After a beat she looks up at him, determination in her eyes. “If you need my help, I'm there.”

“Wow,” MacCready says in surprise, seeing the sincerity in her statement. “I… don't know what to say.” They sit in silence for a moment and he closes his eyes, saying, “Truth is, I haven't been able to rely on anyone since I was a kid. Everyone I've met has either tried to rip me off or put a knife in my back. But you… you're different. We see eye to eye on almost everything.” He looks at her and allows a smirk to grow on his face, “I have a funny feeling you actually care about what happens to me. That's why I asked for your help.”

Madalyn scoffs and kicks out at him, missing completely. MacCready laughs and scoots closer to the edge of the bed, away from her feet. “Tell you what, I'll make this easy on you. If you feel like helping me with this, we can head over to Mass Pike Interchange and we’ll take them down. But, if you don't want to, I won't hold it against you.”

“Stop, Mac. Of course I will,” Madalyn says, slight anger in her voice. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I know you've had a lot going on. But with everything we've been doing, I've got a feeling they might come after me again for doing so much work on their turf. Figured it would be best if we hit them first,” MacCready admits. 

Madalyn shakes her head. “Sometimes I wonder about you MacCready,” she says. He doesn't reply and she sighs, sinking lower into the bed. “The minute I get ‘cleared’ to go we’ll head out there, hit them hard.”

“Thank you,” MacCready says quietly. She smiles in response and snuggles into his sheets. He sighs, “You’re really just going to go to sleep right there?” 

“This is comfortable,” she tells him. “And my room is so far.”

“I don't understand you sometimes,” MacCready says with a shake of his head. She grins and he rises, moving to shut the door to keep out prying eyes. He sits on the chair in the corner of the room, removing his cap and running a hand through his hair. He grimaces slightly when he feels the dirt and grime, knowing he should shower soon. He was going to the day she got back, but in the chaos of her return it slipped from his mind. 

“Why are you over there?” she asks. 

“I'm keeping watch,” he tells her, leaning back in the chair and stretching his legs in front of him. She sighs and turns to face him, slowly rolling onto her side. He feels her eyes in him and he places his cap over his face, hiding it from her view as he focuses on the hum of the generators outside on the streets, powering the settlement. Eventually her breathing evens and draws out in sleep and he allows the familiar sound to lull him into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Madalyn slowly comes awake, blinking repeatedly to get the sleep from her eyes. She glances around the room and holds back a frown at finding it empty. She sees his duster and accessories gone, meaning he had put all of his gear back on and left her. Madalyn’s eyes catch on his cap resting on the arm of the chair she had last seen him in and she holds back a smile. It's a sign; he'll be back. 

She pulls herself up in the bed, putting her back against the wall. She stretches, releasing the tension in her arms and upper body, feeling fewer complaints form the muscles than the day before. Madalyn clears her throat and runs a hand through her hair and across her face, attempting to look somewhat decent. 

She knows the efforts are fruitless. Very few care about looks in the Commonwealth, with more pressing issues to worry about than appearances. She's aware that not many people are looking at her and seeing no less than a scavver, a threat or someone trying to help. But it's hard to forget the ideals that had been drilled into her head the first few decades of her life. Sometimes she finds herself missing the simplicities of make-up and stressing over what to wear, although she knows it's pointless compared to stressing about just living to see the next day. 

Madalyn sighs and rests her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes and allowing memories of before the war to slip in. She knows it's dangerous to do so, that the memories are painful, but with recent events… it's hard to resist. 

The door to the room opens and she's alert with a start. She looks and sees MacCready entering, hatless, but with two plates of mirelurk egg omelette in his hands. Dogmeat weaves between his feet and jumps onto the bed beside Madalyn. When he sees her awake and looking at him he says, “Morning. Codsworth made this for you, told me ‘this will help mum get right as rain before she can say radscorpion eleventy times.’”

Madalyn snorts at his Codsworth impression, “No, he didn't.”

“You calling me a liar?” he asks with a smirk, sitting on the bed across from her like the night before. He absently pats Dogmeat’s head, and Madalyn smiles lightly at the sight, noticing that he didn't care the dog was on his bed. 

“Yes,” she tells him, smirking as she shoves food into her mouth. 

“I'm wounded,” he frowns, shaking his head. He takes a bite as well and Madalyn uses his distraction to take him in. 

He wears his usual clothes, duster clinging to his body, accessories already in place. He looks freshly washed, hair still slightly damp and clinging to his skin at the edges. His facial hair is newly trimmed as well and she begins to wonder how much sleep he got, if any. She sees dark lines under his blue eyes and holds back a frown, suddenly feeling guilty for intruding on his space. “Did you sleep well?” he asks her, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

“I did… did you?” she asks, eyeing him carefully. 

He shrugs, “Same as always.” She nods absently, picking at her food. She knows he's always struggled sleeping a full night. She noticed it quickly when they were on the road together when he insisted on being first watch every night. He would wake her up later than the agreed time and he would rise early. Sometimes she would hear him mumbling in his sleep, but it would be too quiet to catch anything. She always wanted to ask but never did. She knew he liked his privacy. 

"You not hungry?” MacCready asks, directing her attention back to the food in front of her. 

“A little bit,” she tells him, taking a bite for proof. He nods and eyes her curiously, having caught her staring. 

They eat the rest in silence, Madalyn only taking a few more bites before setting the plate down. She still hasn't become fully accustomed to the food in the Commonwealth, despite Codsworth’s efforts to make it taste like before. MacCready finishes quickly after, his plate empty. “Could you help me check these?” Madalyn asks, pointing to the bandages. 

MacCready nods and stands, setting the plates on the chair and out of the way. Madalyn removes the cover and pulls herself to the edge of the bed, being careful and trying to sense what's left of her injuries. He reaches for her bicep first and she holds her arm out passively. His hands work with practiced care, unraveling the bandage without jostling the wound. Once revealed they see the 5.56mm hole in her skin, the tissue inside already re-grown and the top of the wound scabbing. MacCready reaches for his pack under the bed, pulling out a stimpak. Without looking at her for confirmation he quickly inserts the needle near the wound and Madalyn holds back a hiss at the sting. 

“With this it should be healed by the end of the day,” he says, pulling out a fresh bandage and wrapping her arm. 

“I don't even remember how that happened,” she says with a frown. 

“One of the turrets, when you were running across the bridge. In your stumbling you got a little too close to their stream of bullets,” he says simply. 

She eyes him curiously, “Were you there when it happened? Or were you not close enough?”

MacCready hesitates, remembering the scene vividly. “I was there. I was sitting on the stone by the river when we heard the Deathclaw, and then the turrets started. I was at the bridge before you made it across.”

Madalyn remembers someone meeting her at the end, calling her name and holding onto her as she fell. She wonders if it was him but doesn't voice her thoughts, merely nodding and pulling herself up to stand. MacCready steps back to give her space, watching as she lifts her shirt, exposing the bandages underneath. 

With the same skill he pulls off the bandages, Madalyn helping him as much as she can, feeling the closeness of the situation. She notices him keeping his eyes on the wounds alone, not wandering, no clear expression on his face. Once the bandage is off he reaches out a hand slowly, barely touching the claw marks. “This will probably scar.”

“I'll add it to the collection,” she says sarcastically, looking down at the wounds. The skin is mostly healed at the edges, the crevices still open and scabbing. Four large lines cross her torso from where the Deathclaw scratched, her sides dark with bruises from where it squeezed her in its grip. MacCready stabs her with two more purposefully placed stimpaks, sparing her slightly apologetic glances. They wrap her in fresh bandages there as well, though not nearly as thick or as wide, only covering the areas still open. 

When they finish she pushes her shirt back down. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” MacCready says, stepping back and flashing her a smile. “The head?”

Madalyn reaches up and touches the back, feeling for a tender spot. When she hits nothing she shakes her head, “All good.”

“That's what I like to hear.”

She sits back on the bed, stretching once more with a sigh, feeling her muscles stretch and complain at the movement. Dogmeat whines and she turns to him, smiling and petting him. “I'm okay, boy,” she consoles. She looks to MacCready and sees him staring at her, amusement in his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. He turns to the chair and grabs his cap. “Got any plans today?”

She sighs, “I should go around and check on everybody. Who knows what Preston has lined up and waiting for me to take care of. Probably some settlement that needs our help…”

“Always,” MacCready says with a grin and heads for the door. “Well, holler for me if you need anything,” he tells her and disappears before she can respond. 

Madalyn smiles softly and shakes her head, looking down at Dogmeat. “Well, looks like it's just you and me buddy.”

-

MacCready finds himself back at the river, sitting in the same spot as before, but with many different thoughts flooding through his mind. The pain in his neck doesn't help, a reminder of the awkward position he slept in the night before. He rolls his shoulder and neck, trying to release the tension, scowling at the water below his feet.

 _Such a fucking idiot_ , he curses himself. _Should have never told her about Winlock and Barnes_. He sighs and glares at the water more. She has a lot of stuff she's dealing with, he shouldn't have added it to her list. Of course she would be willing to help him. She jumps at the opportunity to help any poor sod they come across in the Commonwealth. She probably thinks he's just taking advantage of her compassion. 

He had left the house over an hour ago, leaving her alone. He knows she has plenty of other stuff to deal with and he didn't want to take up any more of her time. Even though _she_ was the one in his bed.

MacCready tries to shove the memory from this morning away. The way she so willingly lifted her shirt and exposed her wounds to him, trusting him to check them and make sure she was okay. They had taken care of each other's wounds plenty of times on the road, mostly sticking each other with stimpaks, but none have ever been that severe.

The rage that filled him when he saw the wounds once more surprised him. He knows the cause behind them was gone, that it had met its end, but he wished he could have shot the final bullet himself. But he didn't; instead he was kneeling on the ground, holding on to a bleeding Madalyn, blood run cold as he tried to keep her awake. 

MacCready’s hand finds a rock and he throws it into the water angrily, trying to push the thoughts away, wishing they were on that rock. _What is wrong with me? She's just the boss, nothing more_. He tries to ignore his mind flashing back to the image of Lucy covered in blood, throwing another rock into the river. The resounding splash echoes in his ears and he closes his eyes. 

"What did that rock ever do to you?” a voice says from behind him. 

“Shi-” MacCready starts, jumping and turning at the noise. He stares wide eyed at Madalyn, bringing a hand to his chest as if to slow his heart rate. “What the fu-… why did you sneak up on me?”

“I wasn't trying to,” she tells him honestly. She cocks her head to the side, “I didn't even know I could. You always boasting how nothing can sneak up on you.”

MacCready glares at her, considering his response. “I was… distracted,” he finally admits. 

“Everything okay?” she asks, expression immediately turning to concern. 

“Yes,” he says simply, turning back to the river and trying to act normal. “What's up?”

“Preston said that Abernathy Farm sent word they wanted to talk to me when I was back. They didn't say it was important, but they didn't say what it was about..” she says, fidgeting slightly. He raises an eyebrow, confused but waiting for her to get to the point. “Since it's not that far I figured I would head out there, stretch my legs a bit. Would you join me?”

MacCready shrugs, “Sure. It's not as if I have anything going on anyways.”

Madalyn smiles and holds out a hand to help him stand. He grabs it, pulling himself up and next to her. She let's go and pats his shoulder, “Great! Go get your things, I'll meet you at the bridge.”

“Alright, Boss,” he says, tipping his cap at her and making for his room. He hears her light laughter behind him as she heads her own way. 

Once in his room he grabs his rifle, slinging over his back. He checks his handgun in its holster, pocketing extra ammo. Giving himself a once-over to make sure he has everything, he heads out of the house and makes for the bridge. 

When he nears he hears Madalyn talking. “I told you no, you can't come with me. I've already got Mac tagging along,” she says softly. 

MacCready frowns, an odd feeling building in his stomach. He rounds the corner and holds back laughter when he sees her kneeling down, talking to Dogmeat and petting him softly. Dogmeat whines and Madalyn sighs in response.

“I'm sure we have room for one more,” MacCready says with a laugh, coming to a stop beside them. 

Madalyn stands, eyeing him. “Are you sure?”

MacCready points to Dogmeat. “Look at that face, how can you say no?”

She looks down at Dogmeat and smiles lightly. “Alright. I guess you can tag along.”

Dogmeat barks happily, tail wagging ferociously and he runs in a circle around her legs. She laughs and looks at MacCready. “You ready to head out?”

“I was born ready,” he replies. 

She turns and starts across the bridge, Dogmeat at her heels and MacCready a few paces behind her. They walk in companionable silence, falling back into their old rhythm. When they get to the Red Rocket station she waves at the settlers, heading to the right of the building and off of the road towards the west. 

After walking for a bit MacCready snags up a fallen stick as he walks past it. He swings it around aimlessly and Dogmeat catches the motion. He grins when he sees the canine notice and watching him. He turns slightly and throws it ahead of them, Dogmeat immediately sprinting in that direction to retrieve the stick. 

Madalyn notices and looks back at MacCready, an amused look on his face. MacCready shrugs and smiles, taking the stick from Dogmeat and throwing it once more. Occasionally Dogmeat brings it to Madalyn and she throws it as well, all of them passing the time in that fashion. MacCready still scopes ahead their path to make sure they come across no surprises, but the Commonwealth is surprisingly clear of hostiles in their immediate area. 

The large building of Abernathy Farm comes into sight and Madalyn waves at the settlers when they are spotted. Lucy reaches them first, hugging Madalyn when within reach. She pets Dogmeat and waves at MacCready. He nods in return, watching the rest of the family approach. “Madalyn!” Blake Abernathy grins, walking up to her and grabbing her shoulders. “Good to see you, General.”

“You too, Blake,” she says, smiling and grabbing his shoulder in return. 

He turns and sees MacCready, nodding to him, “MacCready.”

“Blake,” he replies, meeting the older mans gaze. 

“Thank you for coming out here, I know you're busy. And it's wasn't an emergency, so we really weren't expecting you so soon,” Blake admits. 

Madalyn shrugs, “It’s no big deal. You know it's not far, and I'll always take a chance to come see you all.”

“You don't need an excuse, General. You know you're always welcome,” he says. 

“I know,” she says with a nod and a smile. 

"Come, lets talk,” he says, leading her away and towards the building. MacCready watches them enter the house, talking closely to each other. He feels eyes on him and looks, seeing Lucy staring at him intently. 

“What's going on?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” she kicks the dirt at her feet. “A lot of the same. Not much has happened since you were here a few days ago.”

“That's good then though, right?” he asks. She shrugs and starts for the tato crops, resuming the work they had interrupted. He suppresses a sigh, turning his back to the house and scanning the fields around them. Dogmeat sits at his feet, panting and looking around, comfortable. 

MacCready paces the length of the fence, legs itchy to move. He tries to not wonder what they could be talking about inside the house. The timing seems coincidental to him, them wanting to talk after he had helped with a problem. But as far as he could tell, he took care of it and left. He held his tongue and kept back any smart remarks, knowing the place was important to Madalyn. 

Movement at the southern edge catches his eye and MacCready steps closer, bringing his rifle up to peer through the scope. The flicker of wings skirt the edges of his scope and he follows it, holding back a curse at the group of stingwings. 

He whistles and Dogmeat comes to his side, alert and looking for a threat. “What is it?” he hears Lucy ask. 

“Stingwings,” he tells her. “I'll take care of it.”

She doesn't reply and he moves forward, headed for a large rock a few meters away. He crouched low behind it and rests his rifle on the rock, eye to the scope. Dogmeat barks lightly, having seen the threat, and whines impatiently. “Not yet,” MacCready tells him. 

He lines up a shot, focusing on the body of one as they flitter in a circle, tracking its movement. After a moment he takes a deep breath and releases the shot.

It hits and the body falls to the ground. The two other stingwings begin to move faster in the circle, looking for the threat around them. MacCready gets another shot ready and waits, timing their movements and trying to anticipate them. He takes a breath and releases. 

The bullet hits the wing of one and MacCready bites back a curse, watching as they spot him and head for his direction. “Now,” he tells Dogmeat and the dog surges forward. MacCready gets another shot ready and, because they are closer and moving slower while attacking, takes one down within seconds. 

He steps away from the rock and walks towards where Dogmeat fights the last one. He brings his rifle up and is about to shoot when the last stingwing falls to the ground. Dogmeat barks happily and goes back to MacCready’s side, looking up at him while wagging his tail. “Good boy,” MacCready tells him, petting his head. He glances up towards the house and sees Madalyn walking towards him, Blake standing in the field talking to his wife and daughter. 

“Good job,” Madalyn says as she comes to a stop beside him. 

MacCready shrugs, “I was bored and saw them so figured I would take care of it while you were in there.”

“I'm sure they appreciate that,” she says, putting her hand on her hip and studying him. 

MacCready, feeling uneasy under her gaze, walks over to the stingwings to check their bodies. Madalyn joins him, hacking off chunks of meat and storing it in her packs. 

Once finished they walk back to the farm and say goodbye to the Abernathy’s. Madalyn does some quick trading with the wife Connie and then hugs her and Lucy. She grasps arms with Blake and says, “Thanks Blake. Let me know if you need anything else, alright?”

“Always,” he replies and then she and MacCready head out. 

Once they are out of sight from the farm MacCready asks, “How did everything go?”

Madalyn smiles, “Good.” MacCready nods but doesn't reply. His curiosity is biting at him but he doesn't voice it, not wanting to intrude on her business. After a moment she stops and looks at him, “Do you want to know what he wanted?”

“If you want to tell me,” he says, stopping as well and turning to face her. 

“It was about you,” she tells him. Dread fills the pit of his stomach and his mind races, trying to figure out what it could have been. When she sees he expression on his face she raises her hands, “No it was good, Mac.”

“It was?” he asks, shocked. 

“Yeah. He was saying he was grateful that you went when I couldn't and took care of it. Said you did a good job and were polite to them. He wanted to make sure I knew that, said I needed to keep you around,” she says with a smile. 

MacCready shakes his head, “No he didn't.”

“I promise,” she tells him. She steps closer, reaching out and touching his arm, “It’s the truth. I've told you already that I appreciate what you did, but I want you to know I meant it. You didn't have to, but you helped. That means a lot to me.”

MacCready stares at her in shock. “Thanks uh…. glad I could help. I don't mind helping, truly.”

She smiles and tightens the grip on his arm before letting him go. “I want to leave tomorrow for the Interchange. We'll get Winlock and Barnes off your back for good. It's the least I could do for all you've done for me.”

“Really?” he asks. 

“Yeah, really,” she grins. She turns and starts back for Sanctuary and MacCready follows happily, a large smile plastered on his face. 

“Awesome."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action scenes ahead!!

The next day they leave as the sun is rising. They make the long journey south, keeping mostly to the roads. They chat occasionally as they travel but Madalyn doesn't bring up anything from the Institute and MacCready doesn't ask. 

When the sky begins to darken MacCready points out an abandoned shack ahead on the road. Madalyn nods and they approach slowly, checking for hostiles. He peers through the door slowly and then nods the all-clear. They get to work on setting up a camp for the night. He sets a few mines outside the shack and gathers wood for a fire while she sets to preparing dinner and laying out their bedrolls. 

After the fire is started and she's working on making the food, MacCready sits in one of the old, broken chairs and pulls out a cigarette. “I think we're about another half-days walk away,” he tells her. She nods absently while turning the meat over and he waits a beat before asking, “So what's the plan?”

“I think we should do some recon first,” she eventually says. “Figure out how many, what type of arsenal they have and how to go at them. Since they're on the interchange it gives them a little bit of an advantage as to how we can approach them.”

He nods, “Can only go at them from two sides.”

“Exactly,” she says, poking at the meat to check it. She puts it back over the fire and frowns, “Best we go at them knowing as much as we can instead of blindly attacking.”

“There might be some men on the ground, too. Guarding the lifts and patrolling,” he says. 

“We'll take them out first, then head up. How long were you away from them before we met?”

He shrugs, “A few months, maybe? Why?”

“So they could have grown in numbers since you last saw them?”

He nods, taking a drag of his cigarette and thinking. “I think they had a few dozen last I know. But they recruit when they can, so could have gained a few since. Or lost.”

She nods again and checks the meat once more. Satisfied it's finished she hands one to him. He takes it with a nod of thanks and gives it a second to cool. He studies the expression on her face and frowns. “We don't have to do this if you think it's too much. You can make the call to back out if it's not looking good.”

“I know,” she says, looking him square on. “But I won't.” He doesn't reply, just stares at her a second before digging into his food. She follows suite, both eating in silence. 

After they are finished MacCready stretches out his legs in front of him, resting his rifle on his lap. “Go ahead and sleep. I'll take first watch.”

She nods and clears up around the fire pit, packing away the rest of the food and removing a few pieces of wood to dampen the intensity of the fire. She heads into the shack and he hears movement for a moment before it falls to silence. He sighs and watches the embers flicker, mind racing to the day ahead, trying to come up with a plan that doesn't entirely resemble suicide. 

When the moon is directly overhead he wakes Madalyn to take over and then falls onto his bedroll. He hears her pacing outside the shack and tries to sleep, but the constant worry continues to nag at his brain. 

By the time she wakes him he had only slept an hour. He lay there thinking for a minute before sitting up with a sigh. They get to work on packing and removing all signs of their temporary habitation. She hands him a piece of jerky for breakfast as they start on the road south once more. 

After a few hours the large interchange comes into sight and MacCready’s nerves comes alive. He constantly checks the road ahead and area around them in his scope, checking for movement and signs of the Gunners. They keep to the east, skirting away from underneath the interchange. Madalyn takes his binoculars and continuously checks the ground below as well as what she can see of above. 

“It's too high, I can barely see anything,” she tells him with a sigh of frustration. MacCready frowns and brings up his rifle to peer through the scope. He gets a flash of a head above the stone barrier, otherwise everything else is obscured from view. After a moment of searching she says, “Let’s go check out their ground cover.”

He nods and follows as she leads him closer to the interchange. They spot a shack directly underneath and stop. She brings the binoculars up and he follows suite with his scope, scanning the area and counting the Gunners in sight. “I've got three.”

“Four,” she responds. He frowns but nods, continuing to look and finding the one he had missed. 

They sit and watch, taking in the details of how they move and patrol the area. None come down from the interchange above and none of them go up either. After an hour of observation Madalyn taps his arm. “Lets scout the area a bit, make sure we don't miss any potential surprises.”

“Got it,” he says. They make a large circle around the inhabited area, first heading south before rounding and heading back north. Occasionally they stop and she looks through the binoculars, still attempting to get information from above. When they reach the northern edge of the camp she stops and sighs. 

“I think that's all we're going to get. We should go find a camp spot nearby and come back early morning, take out the ground cover and then hit the top with everything we got,” she tells him. 

“Are you sure?”

“I don't see any other options,” she shrugs. 

“Alright,” he says with a nod. She flashes him an assuring smile and they make their way up north, wanting to get some distance between them and the Gunners before looking for a camp. After walking for a few minutes Madalyn stops suddenly beside a pillar. MacCready looks at her in confusion and then spots the lift sitting beside the pillar. “Nice,” he comments. 

“I think this is far enough away we can take it up without alerting them. Do you?” she asks. 

He nods, “Worth a shot.”

She approaches it and steps on the lift, crouching low and waiting for him. He joins her side and holds his rifle at the ready in case there are any surprises along the way. He nods to her and she pushes the button, holding her laser gun up and ready as well. 

When it creaks to a stop at the top they both scan the immediate area. “All clear,” he whispers. 

“Lets see what we've got here,” she says. She slowly steps off of the lift. He follows, checking the area to the north while she scans the south. They silently hop over the barrier between roads and into the main interchange. He gives one more scan of the north before turning and looking through his scope towards the base at the south. They cross a make-shift bridge and crouch behind a car. She peers around the car and brings the binoculars up once more. 

“See anything?” he asks. 

“I see one or two… they have it mostly blocked with cars. I can't see much beyond them.”

“Sh… dang it,” MacCready curses. He peers through his scope and sees the same. “What do you want to do, boss?”

“I think I'll try to get closer, slip between those vans there. Cover me?” she asks, looking at him. 

He frowns and hesitates before nodding. “Will do.”

She flashes him a smile and then pockets his binoculars. She holds her rifle to the ready and quietly walks along the interchange, eyes trained on the camp in front of them. He follows her with his scope while panning back to the few Gunners in sight. She disappears behind a van and he frowns, trying to follow where he guesses she is while still watching the Gunners. 

A minute passes without any movement. When he starts to itch with anticipation he hears a yell from the camp and his blood runs cold as four Gunners run towards their location. “Fuck!” he curses, aiming a shot with one and firing without hesitation. _Sorry Duncan_ , he thinks, knowing he let one slip. 

He hears a laser gun firing and watches the beams shoot from behind a car twenty yards away. He steps from his cover and slowly makes his way there, shooting at as many Gunners appear in his scope. He shoots at the turret firing at him and it explodes, shrapnel hitting him as he runs past. He passes through the first barricade and sees Madalyn crouched behind a barrel. He follows her line of fire and shoots at a few more Gunners, trying to pull their attention off of her. 

A flash of red catches his attention and he turns. “Assaultron!” he yells, immediately aiming all of his shots at the robot. They barely make impact but he continues to shoot.

The assaultron turns towards him and he lobs a grenade in its direction. It hits and explodes but the assaultron walks through the smoke and continues its advance. He curses once more when he sees the red of it's eyes at it's brightest as its hum reaches its peak and he turns and runs. He ducks behind the road barrier rights as a stream of red shoots towards his direction, the concrete hissing under the intensity of the energy beam. 

The beam stops and MacCready takes the break to his advantage, throwing one more grenade and running towards the body of a fallen Gunner. He grabs the laser gun that belonged to the deceased and immediately starts shooting at the assaultron. He spares a glance at Madalyn and sees her shoot down one more Gunner before turning her attention to the robot. The gun in his hands runs out of ammo and he drops it, quickly reaching into his duster and pulling the .44 out of its holster. He immediately begins firing once more, focusing on listening to the hum of the beam powering up. 

He leads the assaultron north, away from the camp, its back to Madalyn. The assaultron gets close and swipes at him, hitting his side. MacCready responds by firing it in the face followed by a kick at its legs. It falls and grabs him with it, pulling him onto the hard ground. MacCready grunts and rolls away, hearing the hum near its peak. He fires a few more shots, trying to keep its attention on him, as he tries to head for cover once more. 

MacCready spots a car a few feet away and runs for it, the hum reaching its peak behind him. With a loud blast the beam shoots in his direction, grazing his shoulder as he jumps behind cover. The car shakes under the pressure and he wills it to hold, closing his eyes at the red glare. 

The beam stops pre-maturely, a loud boom resounding from the direction of the assaultron. MacCready opens his eyes wide and peers around the car, seeing the assaultron lying in pieces. He sees Madalyn standing ten feet away breathing heavily, a missile launcher on her shoulder, smoke coming out of its end. His eyebrows shoot towards the top of his forehead and he says, “Nice shot.”

“Thanks,” she says, dropping the missile launcher. MacCready holds back a cringe at the loud noise it makes and he walks towards her, looking her over for injuries. He holsters his .44 and pulls his rifle off of his shoulder. He opens his mouth to ask if she's okay when a bullet lands in his leg. 

“Ouch,” he exclaims, falling onto his knee and raising his rifle. Madalyn calls out his name but he shakes his head, “I'm fine.” He peers through his scope and sees Barnes peering around a wall, aiming and firing. The shot misses and MacCready responds in kind, his own shot nailing the wall that Barnes hides behind. “It's Barnes.”

“I see him,” she says. She brings her laser gun up and runs. MacCready continues to shoot, keeping Barnes hiding and oblivious to her approach. When she reaches the wall she disappears on the other side. MacCready hears a gunshot and he curses, standing and running towards them. His leg screams at him in defiance but he ignores it, pulling a stimpak out and shoving it into his leg. The pain barely subsides but he ignores it. 

As he nears a figure steps out and he raises his rifle, ready to shoot when he sees Madalyn. “Dam-dang it,” he curses, dropping his stance and shaking his head. “Don't do that.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes. She gives him an amused look, “Aren't I supposed to be the boss?”

“Yeah, boss,” he says with a nod. He steps around the wall and sees Barnes on the ground, a large burn in his chest from a laser gun. “Nice work.”

“I'll let you have Winlock,” she says, kneeling to loot the body. She hands MacCready a handful of .308s and stands, stretching her arms. “Ready?”

“Born ready,” he says. They fall into formation, crouching down and walking around the large bus. MacCready looks through a window and sees Winlock standing on a small tower beside a turret, gun up and alert. “I'll get the turret,” he says. She nods and he brings his rifle up, peering through the scope and aiming for the turret. His shot causes it to explode and the force knocks Winlock over. MacCready smirks at the sight, taking the second to reload. 

“Shit,” Madalyn curses. MacCready looks up with a start and holds back one of his own as the Gunner in power armor steps into sight. “I'll get him, you take Winlock,” she says, raising her gun. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, uneasy. 

“Positive,” she says and steps out of cover. 

MacCready watches with wide eyes as she starts firing at the Gunner. Winlock begins to shoot at her and MacCready fires at him, causing him to duck behind cover. MacCready jumps over the road barrier and makes for the tower, pulling out his .44. He shoots at the tower as he approaches, Winlock barely able to aim as he shoots in MacCready’s direction. 

MacCready approaches from the side and starts up the steps. A bullet hits his arm but he ignores it and when within reach swings at Winlock. His fist lands on his face and the other man yells angrily, grabbing MacCready by the neck and pulling him up before slamming him onto the ground. MacCready grunts in pain but kicks Winlock’s legs out from underneath him. As he falls MacCready stands, aiming for his face. “Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you,” Winlock spits through his bloody mouth. MacCready squeezes the trigger as Winlock lunges at him. The next thing he knows is his head hitting hard concrete and everything turning black.

-

“MacCready!” Madalyn yells. The wind is knocked out of her as the Gunner hits her in the stomach. She yells in frustration and starts firing endlessly into the power armor and the chest piece falls off. She aims for the soft spots and the Gunner howls in pain before falling. The power armor hits the ground with a bang and Madalyn approaches the body. She rips the helmet off and shoots two more shots into the Gunners head for good measure.

She quickly scans the area around her for any more before running over to the tower. “Oh no,” she says, seeing the two bodies lying motionless at the base. “No no no,” she chants, dropping to her knees beside them and letting her gun fall to the floor. She shoves Winlock’s body off to the side and grabs MacCready’s shoulders. “Mac!” she calls, feeling his neck for a pulse. A heartbeat thrums under her fingers and she lets out a short laugh in relief, reaching into her pack for stimpaks. 

She shoves three stimpaks into him, hands shaking from adrenaline. She pauses afterwards, trying to give the chemicals time to work, and then tries once more. “Mac, wake up.”

She gets no response and groans in frustration. She rips the cap off of his head and checks the back. Blood sticks to her fingers and she curses, looking for the wound. She finds it and sees the skin healing together, the stimpaks at work. “Damn it Mac,” she curses. She looks to right and sees a shack with a mattress next to the tower and sighs. 

She shakes her pack off her shoulders and kneels next to him, hooking her arms under his. She takes a deep breath and stands, pulling his body up with her. Slowly she takes him into the shack and sets him onto the bed. She adjusts his body into a comfortable position and turns his head so the wound is not on the bottom. She stands over the bed with her hands on her hips, looking him over. Her eyes land on his leg and she grabs it, looking through the hole in his pants. “Fuck…” she whispers, seeing the skin healing. She looks at the back of his leg and doesn't see an exit hole. She glances up at his face and says, “Well have to dig that out once you're conscious. I'd rather not have you waking up and kicking me if I tried to do that now.” She checks the burn on his arm and sees the burn healing slowly. “At least that one’s healing right,” she mumbles. 

She steps back and looks him over once more before turning and stepping out of the shack. She sets fragmentation mines behind it, where someone could sneak up, and then starts searching the camp. 

She checks all bodies and loots caches she comes across. She brings everything she finds into the shack, trying not to hover over MacCready, pushing her concern away while she works. After she's picked the camp clean she sets a few more mines around the shack for in case more Gunners show up while she's inside. She sets a fire on the ground in front of the door and sets the stingwing meat over it to filet. 

While she waits for the meat to cook she sorts through the loot, stuffing the valuables in their packs, trying to even out the load between his and hers. She grabs the plasma pistol she had taken off the power-armored Gunner and studies it, unfamiliar with the weapon type. She packs it with a shrug, deciding to look at it closer at her weapons bench in Sanctuary. 

Once finished she checks the filets and then takes them off the fire, setting them on two ceramic plates she had found and cleaned. She enters the shack and sets them down on a barrel, approaching the bed once more. “Mac?” she asks softly, reaching out and touching his shoulder.

She gets no reply once more and sighs, turning and grabbing her plate. She sits on the steps to the shack and eats in silence, concern and fear overflowing her emotions. Once done she leans against the wall and sighs, rubbing her eyes. “What am I going to do?” she asks aloud. She glances at the motionless form on the bed and fights her emotions, “What and I supposed to do? Why won't you wake up?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer*  
> I use some of the dialogue from the game, but I do not take credit. That is property of Bethesda Games. I merely use it as a part of the story to keep it (mostly) canon compliant and as a plot tool.  
> *Thank you*

Madalyn stands at the railing of the interchange, looking out into darkness below. The wind blows past her, ruffling her hair, and singing in her ears. Fatigue fills her bones but she fights it, wanting to remain alert and on guard. She knows the area was a Gunner base and there are more out there. They could return any moment. But she can't leave; she can't carry MacCready out on her own and be able to fight off anything they come across. So she made the place heavily defended and is waiting. 

She grips the railing tightly and sighs, staring out across the Commonwealth. For a moment a vision crosses her of what it used to look like, all greens and blues, cars racing across the interchange behind her. 

“Boss?” she hears. 

She turns quickly and sees MacCready standing at the door to the shack, leaning against it heavily, looking at her with confusion. 

“Mac!” she exclaims, running over to him. She grabs his shoulders and looks him over. “How are you feeling? Is your head okay?”

“I'm fine,” he says, looking at her with wide eyes. “What happened?”

"You fell and hit your head hard, it knocked you out,” she tells him. She ushers him back into the shack and onto the bed. “You sure it's okay?”

“I'm sure,” he says. He continues to look at her in confusion, mind racing. “Winlock?”

“He was dead when I got to you. Your shot killed him.”

“He tried to take me down with him,” MacCready remembers, frowning. “What an assh… dick.”

Madalyn gestures to his leg, “Does that hurt?” When he shakes his head she bites her lip. “I wasn't able to get the bullet out before the stims started healing it…”

“So it's still in there?” he asks. 

She nods, “I didn't want to try to take it out without you awake.”

“Makes sense,” he nods. He sighs and scoots further back onto the bed, stretching the leg out. He rolls up his pant leg and examines the healing hole. “That's gonna be fun.”

She touches the skin beside the wound lightly, “Looks like a layer has already started growing back.” He grunts in affirmation and she steps back, removing her belt from her pants. She holds it out to him, “You're gonna want to bite down on this.”

He obliges, sticking the leather between his teeth while she pulls out her knife, a stimpak and a bandage wrap. She kneels on the ground to be level with his leg and puts the blade to his skin. She looks up at him and he nods, bracing himself. She digs and he grunts, biting down on the leather hard, gripping the mattress tightly. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, digging the knife deep. She removes it and then sticks her finger in, grabbing onto the bullet as quick as she can and yanking it out. She quickly covers the wound and sticks his leg with a stimpak, throwing the bullet aside. 

He removes the belt from his mouth and grimaces. “That was painful.”

“Sorry,” she says again. 

He shakes his head, “Not your fault. You didn't shoot me.”

“It's my fault this happened. I'm the one who went in there and nearly ran straight into a Gunner. I should've been more careful,” she frowns, wrapping the wound tightly. 

He sits straight and drops his pant leg back down. “Its not your fault. We got out okay, anyways.”

She shakes her head, “We were just supposed to be doing recon. We weren't prepared, and you almost died. Multiple times.”

“What other time?” he asks, confused. 

“That fucking assaultron,” she says angrily. She stands and starts to pace the small shack. 

“Boss,” he shakes his head, standing and blocking her movements. “Calm down. We took care of it, didn't we? We always find a way out. And I'm okay, just a little banged up. No worse than normal.”

She grunts and turns away, fists clenching at her sides. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to remove the image of him lying motionless on the ground. After a second she says, “You're right.”

“I know,” he grins. His stomach growls loudly and he frowns. 

“Here, I made some food earlier. It's a little cold…” she says while reaching into her pack and removing the stingwing filet she had made earlier. He takes it and unwraps the meat, digging in. 

“Better than nothing,” he says through his bite. 

She smiles lightly and steps out of the shack and into the fresh air. She brings her arms up to her chest, hugging herself against the wind. She hears him step out beside her, looking at the bodies scattered across the camp. 

“Well, this should send a message to the gunners to stay off my back,” he says, gesturing in front of him. 

“I'm sure they heard you loud and clear,” she says with a smile. A thought occurs to her and she asks, “You don't think they will retaliate, do you?”

“The way these lunatics act, you'd think they would but… I know better. For the Gunners it's always about the bottom line. They just lost this entire way station and it cost them big. Besides, they have no way of knowing I was involved,” he says with a shrug. 

She nods, glancing at the body of Winlock off to the side. She goes to say something when he beats her to it. “I guess I owe you a favor now. After all, you're the one who hired me but I'm the one who dragged you out here.”

She shakes her head, “You don't owe me. You clearly needed the help.”

“And I appreciate it. But that's still one up you have on me.” He smiles at her, “Tell you what, I'm going to give you back the caps you paid me in Goodneighbor.”

“What?” she asks, staring at him in shock. 

At the expression on her face he says, “I'll still stick with you because that was part of the original deal, but now we're even.” He reaches into his duster and pulls out a pouch of caps. She slowly reaches out and takes it from him. 

“Are you sure?” she asks, skeptical. 

“Definitely,” he says. She stares at him a second longer before pocketing it. He takes another bite of the filet and grins at her. She looks back at the camp, mind racing, and stays silent. After a moment he speaks up, “You should go get some rest, boss. I'll wake you in the morning and then we can head out.”

She thinks about protesting, but the complaints of her body convince her otherwise. “Okay,” she says, turning and heading for the shack. 

“Boss?” he asks before she disappears. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks again. I mean it.”

She gives him a smile, “No problem, MacCready.” He smiles back and she crawls onto the bed, fatigue taking over and quickly pulling her into a deep sleep.

-

When she wakes up she tells him she wants to go to Diamond City. They leave as soon as possible, heading east. They reach the city by midday and Madalyn immediately goes for the merchants, wanting to trade the loot from the Interchange. MacCready follows suite, starting at the merchant at the other end, unloading his pack at Diamond City Surplus. He catches up to her while she's talking with Arturo, a charming smile on her face.

“Thanks Arturo. You always know how to treat a girl,” she says to him. 

“Always a pleasure,” Arturo replies, taking the ammo she had traded off of his counter and carrying them into the building behind him. 

“Are you hungry?” she asks him. 

“Starving,” he says. She nods and they head towards the Dugout Inn. Once inside they hear the booming voice of Vadim greeting them. 

“My friends! Velcome! It is very good to see you,” Vadim says, leaning on the counter with a large smile on his face. 

“Hey Vadim,” Madalyn greets him. He steps around the counter and grabs her into a large bear hug. MacCready stares in surprise but doesn't comment, choosing instead to sit on a bar stool and watch. “How are you doing? Staying out of trouble?”

Vadim laughs a booming laugh, “Always. And you? What's brings you here?”

“We were nearby and decided to stop in the City, do some bartering and crash here for the night. How's business?” Madalyn asks. 

“Always busy,” Vadim says as he goes back to his position behind the counter. “Yefim!” He calls for his brother. Yefim pulls himself away from the wall he's leaning against and approaches the counter. “These two will need rooms for the night.”

“Three is the only one available,” Yefim says, looking at the two patrons with a sympathetic expression. 

“I hope that is not a problem,” Vadim says. 

Madalyn shoots MacCready a look and at his shrug says, “No, that'll be fine.”

Yefim nods and when she goes to hand him caps he stops her. “No, this will be on the house. Think of it as a reward for saving my idiot brother when you did.”

“That was months ago, and you guys have repaid me enough,” she protests. 

“For saving a life, there is no way to properly repay,” Vadim insists. 

“I think you're outta luck here, boss,” MacCready says with a grin. 

She frowns at him but Vadim laughs, “You see! MacCready here knows the truth. How is my favorite mercenary? Still with the lady here, I see.”

“She's stuck with me until she says otherwise,” MacCready says. He notices a light blush on her cheeks and he raises an eyebrow. 

She speaks before he can comment, “Fine. But let me pay for dinner, at least.”

“Fine, fine,” Vadim says. He walks away to go find Scarlett. 

"It is good to see you," Yefim says, patting Madalyn on the shoulder and then returning to his post. 

She sighs and sinks onto the stool next to MacCready. He smirks at her but doesn't comment. Vadim returns and hands them each a bottle of Gwinnett Stout. MacCready takes his with a grin and tilt of his head, while Madalyn grabs hers and take a large gulp. He regards her with an impressed look, not used to seeing her drinking alcohol. 

She notices him looking and sets the bottle on the counter, “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head and taking a swig. 

She doesn't reply, bringing her bottle to her lips once more. MacCready watches her from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out what set her off. He considers voicing his questions when Scarlett rounds the corner with two bowls in hand. She sets them down in front of the pair and grins at Madalyn. 

"Thanks Scarlett," she says. 

“No problem,” Scarlett replies, turning to leave and shooting MacCready a smile as she passes. 

"Radstsag stew,” Vadim says, gesturing to their bowls. 

“How much?” Madalyn asks. 

“Hmm… eight caps,” Vadim says with a grin. 

She rolls her eyes and hands him the ten she had pulled out for Yefim. He frowns at her and she shoots him a mischievous smile, taking another large gulp of her stout. Vadim shakes his head and walks further down the counter, giving them space. 

“This is good,” MacCready says after taking a bite. She takes one as well and nods while chewing. “You sure you don't mind sharing a room?” he asks curiously. 

She shrugs, “Wouldn't be any different than when we camp together.” 

He nods, “Fair point.” After a moment of eating he asks, “So, you impressed yet? Told you I was a damn good shot.”

She looks at him surprised at his change of topic, "I may have… what's your point?”

“I'm completely self-taught you know. Picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten and never looked back. I always thought it was smarter to hit targets at long range. I mean, why take chances, right?” She nods, mouth full of food, and he continues. “Besides, I had to come up with every trick in the book to survive the Capital Wasteland.”

"What was it like growing up there?” she asks. 

He shrugs, “My experience probably isn't the same as anyone else from there. I lived underground in a place called Little Lamplight with a bunch of other kids. Left there when I was around sixteen. We kind of had a policy there… no adults. When you were sixteen you packed up and left. It sounds crazy but, having adults around was something we couldn't trust.”

She gives him a wide eyed look. “How could a bunch of kids survive without help?”

“Everyone pulled their own weight,” he tells her simply. “Just like a colony you'd find anywhere, we all had our designated jobs and we watched each other's backs. Can you believe I was actually mayor for a while? Me? Crazy, I know.”

She barks a laugh and gives him in appraising look. “Somehow that doesn't surprise me.” He grins and she shakes her head, “I mean it makes sense I supposed.”

“Nothing makes sense anymore. You just roll with the punches. Anyway, when I hit sixteen, I ended up wandering the Capital Wasteland for a while. I took the odd job here and there, but things were pretty hot with the Brotherhood of Steel running the show. So I hitched a ride with a caravan and ended up north until I ended up here. Made a pretty decent name for myself until I heard that the Gunners needed some sharpshooters. Biggest mistake of my life.” 

She gives him a sympathetic look, finally understanding what made him bring it up. He looks away but continues, “They were animals. Killed anything that moved if it got in their way. I went with it for a while, because the caps were good. But, I dunno, I guess it started to catch up with me… so I quit. Which pretty much brings us to now. So, there you have it, my whole life in a nutshell.”

She pauses for a second, staring at him before giving him a look he's not used to seeing directed towards him. “Sounds like the road can be a lonely place… until you meet someone to share it with.”

MacCready gives her a shocked glance. “I… well I… guess I never thought of it that way,” he stumbles. “Maybe… that's why I feel so comfortable telling you all of this.” He sighs, “Look, I know I tend to be a pain in the ass… I mean I know I can be arrogant and I come off like I want to be alone. Nothing can be further from the truth. Being alone scares the heck out of me. Now that we've been traveling together for a while, I'm beginning to realize how much I missed having someone I could depend on. I just… I wanted you to know that I'm going to do everything I can to see that it stays this way.”

She reaches out and touches his arm lightly, “Thanks, Mac. I… I feel the same.”

“I wanted you to know, how I felt. And how much I really do appreciate what you did for me. I've said it before, but I wanted you to understand.”

“I do,” she says with a smile. He watches as she finishes her bottle and Vadim walks back over. 

“Another?”

She nods and he hands her a new bottle. He looks to MacCready but he shakes his head, his bottle still half full. Vadim walks away once more and MacCready can't hold it in anymore. While she takes one more large swig he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” she says. “Why do you ask?”

“Just… don't usually see you drink this much,” he tells her honestly. 

She shrugs, “Never really felt the need, and never felt it was safe to let myself get intoxicated.”

“But you do now?” he asks. 

She gives him a sidelong glance, “I trust you.”

He stares at her in surprise, frozen, hand tightly gripping his bottle. She doesn't seem to notice his reaction, her gaze wandering while she continues to drink. MacCready shakes his head to himself, trying to regain his composure, and doesn't reply. He doesn't trust his mouth to not betray him. 

They drink for a while, Vadim keeping with a flow of stouts. After an hour she has had five while MacCready sits on his second. They share stories. Madalyn tells him about when she found Strong, dragging Piper though a tower full of super mutants. She tells him about the first time she stepped into Goodneighbor, when Hancock killed Finn for trying to shake her down the minute she walked in the door. Of when she and Valentine discovered that Doc Crocker was killing residents in Doctor Sun’s basement. 

He chimes in at points, occasionally sharing memories he had from living in the Capital Wasteland or after arriving in the Commonwealth. None of them compare to the grandeur and insanity of those she had experienced. He lets her talk mostly, becoming less and less surprised at the events described. 

Vadim approaches them once more and sees their bottles empty. “How about some moonshine to end the night?” he asks. 

“That ssounds terrific,” she slurs, grinning at Vadim. 

Vadim glances at MacCready but he doesn't stop him as two glasses are poured. They each grab one and she clinks hers against his before tilting it back, drinking it in one go. He follows suite and tries to hold back a grimace at the sting. “That'ss good,” she says, setting the glass down. 

MacCready nods, “Yeah, that's Bobrov’s Best alright.”

“Thiss is fun,” she slurs, leaning against his side and smiling up at him. 

“Really? You think this is fun?” he laughs. 

“Are you not having fun?” she frowns, straightening and glaring at him as much as she can. 

“No, I am,” he tries to assure. 

“Good,” she grins, not needing much to be convinced. He laughs as she tries to rest her elbows on the counter and misses. 

“I think maybe we should turn in,” MacCready says. 

She frowns, “Are we done?”

“It's late,” he tells her while standing. She sighs but doesn't argue, planting her feet on the ground. She uses the counter as support as she pulls herself into a standing position. She goes to take a step and stumbles. MacCready jumps to catch her and she giggles while he grabs her arms. 

“Woops,” she laughs. She grips his arms tightly and takes a few more steps. 

MacCready sighs and shakes his head. He looks at Yefim, “Three, you said?”

“Yep. Door is already unlocked for you.”

“Thanks,” MacCready says with a smile. Yefim laughs and walks away from them and towards his brother. He holds back another sigh and slips his arm around her waist, deciding a different tactic would be better. “Come on, boss.”

He leads her in the back towards their room, turning the handle and kicking it open. He guides her to the bed and she falls onto it with a sigh. “I'm tired,” she tells him, snuggling into the bed. 

“I know,” is all he replies. He drops their bags onto the ground and moves to shut the door. He regards he couch, seeing the cushions sunken in from decades of use. He sits down and feels the springs directly underneath digging through the cloth. “Could be worse,” he says to himself. 

He rises and approaches the bed, reaching out and touching Madalyn’s leg. “Boss?” he asks. She turns to him and looks at him through drowsy eyes. “You gonna sleep like that?”

She grunts and tries to kick off her boots. After watching her struggle he reaches out and pulls them off of her feet. She slowly unbuckles her armor and he takes it, setting each piece on the dresser nearby. Once she's just in her road leathers she removes the belt and sighs in relief, “That's better.” 

He just smirks and turns back to the couch, slowly removing his accessories, cap and duster. He sits on the couch and removes his boots, glancing at her and seeing her nearly fully asleep. 

"Mac?" he hears her. 

“Yeah, boss?”

“You don't have to sleep on the couch, you know. There's room on here for both of us,” she says quietly. 

“I'm fine with the couch,” he says with a shrug. 

“I'm not,” she says. He looks and sees her staring at him with a frown. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you sure? It's not the alcohol talking?”

She gives him an unamused look. “I'm sure. I already told you tonight… I trust you.”

He stands and hesitates before stepping forward, “Okay. Just… kick me off if you want to, got it?”

“Got it,” she says. She scoots over, making room, and he slowly sits down. He lies back onto the mattress, feeling the heat radiate off her in the distance between them. MacCready closes his eyes and turns so his back is facing her, trying to ignore her presence. “Night, Mac.”

“Night boss,” he says, and soon enough he hears her even breathing behind him. He allows the sound to lull him into a deep, much needed sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know a lot of people imagine the Sole Survivor to be around 30+, but for the sake of this story I'm having her be around 26 (I looked online and all it says for cannon is that the SS was born between late 40s mid 50s, so it's not too outrageous).  
> Just wanted to add that note.  
> Enjoy!

Madalyn slowly comes awake, the pounding in her head preventing her from gaining any more rest. She groans and snuggles closer to Nate, already regretting their night out the day before. She smiles at the memory of them dancing and laughing at his friends wedding, finally having a night out after Shaun was born. 

_Shaun_.

She bolts up quickly, eyes wide as she looks around the dark room. She looks beside her and sees MacCready sleeping still, arm stretched out where it was lying under her head, his body curved slightly. Madalyn scoots away slowly, her cheeks flaming, and she tries to remember the night before. 

_Curse that moonshine. I am going to kill Vadim for offering it, he knows what happened the first time I had some_. She sighs and cradles her head, trying to physically push the pain away, but knows it will have no effect. 

She remembers MacCready basically carrying her into the room and helping her get comfortable. She remembers watching him settle onto the couch, an uncomfortable looks on his face, and she remembers offering him to share the bed. And then she fell asleep. Nothing else had happened. 

She leans her head back and regards him once more. For a man she had been traveling with for a few months, he still remains a mystery. Lately he had been sharing more, telling her about himself and who he was before they met. It surprises her, but she appreciates the gesture, and finds herself gaining a stronger understanding of who he is. 

But even before he told her those things she understood what type of man he was. He had voiced his opinions on her decisions and he would provide his thoughts on a subject. He'd always been straightforward, yet they held each other at a distance. Like she had told him before she knew he respected privacy. Never once had he asked her questions about herself and she rarely offered details. Once in a while she would bring up something resembling her past, but she would skip out on some details. 

Only a few know the truth about where… or when… she comes from. Codsworth, for obvious reasons. Preston, mainly because at the time she didn't know she wanted to keep it a secret, and because he was the first she had met and trusted. Nick, because he needed all of the details to help the search. Not like she could have kept the secret, because he saw the truth when they went digging through Kellogg’s memories anyways. Other than that, all the others know is that she was from a vault and that everyone had been killed and her son had been kidnapped. She wore the vault suit for a long time; until she got tired of the comments and looks and decided she would be better off blending in with everyone else. It wasn't long after that decision that she had bought MacCready’s services. 

She finds herself studying his face. When out on the road she rarely sees him so peaceful and asleep. It's now that she sees his true age. She had thought him older when they first met, he having clearly experienced a lot, but one day he let it slip. She had been caught off guard, but she shouldn't have been surprised. It's rare she meets anyone older than thirty in a world such as theirs. Not that she had passed that crest herself, but everyone seems to have grown up quickly in this world, and even when she thinks she's used to it, the fact catches her off guard. 

He stirs slightly and she looks away, not wanting to get caught staring. His eyes open slowly and he looks up at her, “Morning. Did I oversleep?”

“No,” she says with a shake of her head. “I woke up a few minutes ago.” She grimaces as the movement brings her headache back to the forefront. 

He smiles in recognition of the expression, “Hangover, huh?” She nods and he drags himself off of the bed, going over to his boots and pulling them on. 

“Where are you going?” she asks. 

"To get something to help with that, and to piss. Maybe not in that order,” he tells her. She smiles and shakes her head, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them. She watches him approach the door and he shoots her a quick smile before leaving and shutting it behind him. 

Once the doors shut her expression falls back to neutral and she stares at it, thoughts racing. In moments where they are alone, she finds herself forgetting about the events that still plague her. She forgets about everything awful that has happened since she first woke up in the vault. She finds herself focused on the moment, focusing on the subject at hand, the rest blocked out. And she doesn't know how to feel about that fact. 

After a few minutes pass the door opens again and MacCready steps through, plates in hand. He approaches the bed and hands her one, “Vadim said this should help with your head.”

“What is it?” she asks, poking the meaty substance with the fork. 

“I wouldn't ask,” he tells her, taking a bite of his own, sitting on the bed as well. She watches his expression for a reaction to the food but he just smirks. She sighs and takes a bite. 

“Shit,” she curses through her mouthful, holding back a gag. 

MacCready barks a laugh, “It gets the job done.”

"Are you sure?” she asks, inspecting the meat once more. He nods and she sighs, taking another bite. The next is easier to get down and by the time it's nearly done she is accustomed to the taste. 

Once the plate is clean she sets it aside and scowls at the plate. MacCready sets his on top of it and leans back with a sigh, stretching his arms above his head. “No better way to start the day than with a hearty breakfast.”

“I don't know if I would call that hearty,” she responds, frowning and crossing her arms. “But it is helping slightly.” He nods with a hum, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “How's your head? Last night get to you at all?”

“It'll take more than what I drank for me to wake up with a hangover,” he says, smirking in her direction. “I only drank about half of what you did.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Didn't feel much like it, and figured one of us should stay mostly coherent. Not that it isn't safe here but… old habits die hard,” he tells her bluntly. 

“Oh,” she says, looking down, suddenly feeling shameful about her behavior the night before. 

“Hey, don't feel bad. You obviously needed to let off some steam,” he nudges her with his leg. She doesn't respond, merely nods absently. He pushes again, “I mean it.”

“I know,” she finally says. She smiles at him sadly, mind still running quickly. After a moments silence she says, “I have a question… about something you said last night.”

He freezes, looking at her hesitantly. “Uh… okay.”

“You told Vadim that you were stuck with me until I say otherwise. What exactly did you mean about that?”

"Oh," he breathes, relaxing. “I uh, I meant what I said. That was the agreement, right? You point, I shoot.”

“Yeah,” she nods, looking back down at her lap. “I meant, do you want to leave? Technically we don't have a contract of sorts anymore. You gave me back the caps I paid you, and you've been with me longer than we had originally agreed.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks quietly. 

“No,” she shakes her head. “That's not what I mean.”

“I'm not following,” he frowns. 

She sighs, “I guess I was just wondering what's keeping you here.”

“Pocket full of ammo and the open road, what more could I want?” he shrugs. 

“So you want to travel with me?” she asks. 

“You're stuck with me until you tell me to go. I won't argue if you want me to leave, boss,” he tells her. 

She looks up, meeting his gaze. He stares at her straight on, giving her nothing. She just shakes her head, “I don't want you to leave. But I don't want you to stay if you don't want to.”

“Then I'm staying,” he says with a nod. She nods back and returns to looking at her lap, still frowning. “What's wrong? Is something else bothering you?”

She bites her lip, “There's something I… I want to tell you.”

“What's up, boss?” he asks, concerned. 

“What I'm going to tell you, I want to ask you to keep it a secret. Only a few people know this, but I think it would only be fair if you knew as well. With as much as we travel together, and all that we've been through… you deserve to know the truth. And you've been honest with me, it's time I returned the favor.”

“Okay,” he nods, staring at her, trying to understand. “Only if you want to.”

“I do,” she says simply. He nods again and she takes a deep breath, preparing to speak. “You know that I can from a vault, but the vault I came from was a little different from the others. Some vaults, we've seen, have different purposes from others, doing experiments and such. Mine… it's purpose was to experiment with cryogenic suspended animation.”

He frowns slightly, “Meaning what, exactly?”

“I was born in 2051, I was there the day the bombs fell, and me and my family were on the list for Vault 111. Me, my husband, our son Shaun, and Codsworth all lived in Sanctuary. When the bombs fell we barely made it to the vault in time. Then when we got down they just ushered us into the cryo containers without telling us anything. We just assumed it was to keep the radiation out or… something. Nate was holding Shaun when we were put under. The next thing I saw when I woke up was Kellogg and Institute scientists taking Shaun. Nate tried to fight, to not let go, but Kellogg killed him. They killed everyone else down there but kept me alive, calling me the ‘backup.’ Then, what I thought was a computer malfunction woke me up later, and then I left the vault and stepped out onto a different world. 

“I went straight home and found Codsworth there. He told me what had happened, that two hundred years had passed. He waited there for us, kept things as clean as he could for when we came back. But it was just me. I stayed for a few days and tried to make it home again but then I went to Concord looking for survivors or any clues as to what was going on. That's where I found Preston and the others. 

“Mama Murphy told me I would find answers in Diamond City, and when I went there I found out about Nick. After saving him from some mobsters he helped me look for clues for Shaun. That's when we realized it had been ten years since he had been taken, and Kellogg had him in Diamond City not too long before that. 

“You know almost everything after that…” she pauses, daring to glance at him. She sees him staring straight ahead at the wall opposite, not looking at her. His jaw is closed tightly and his hand clenched into a fist at his side, but he doesn't speak. Madalyn suddenly feels regret building, but she knows she already started and she can't stop. 

“What I found… in the Institute. I don't know how to describe it fully. It's… different than I expected. There were Synths everywhere, but a lot of people too. The scariest part was… was Shaun. It wasn't ten years that had passed since he was taken and when I woke up; it was sixty. They raised him, taught him everything they knew, and now he… he runs the Institute. My son. And he wants me to join them. He paraded me around and had me given tours as if it was something I should be proud of. The whole time I was terrified, but I went along with it for the time being. I told him I needed time to think things over, and the minute I could I ran.” She takes a deep breath, trying to hold back her emotions. Fear and sorrow try to cloud her thoughts but she fights back, trying to contain herself. “I'm just so scared and I don't know what to do. I know the right thing to do is take them down but that means taking him down too. And I don't know if I have it in me to do that.”

Finally everything being said she stops and holds her head in her hands, not wanting to face him. He sits silently at her side and she knows she needs to look up, to see the results of her story, but she waits. 

The silence is broken when he takes a deep breath, causing the tension to snap. “I think I need to take a walk. To let things sink in.”

She looks up sharply and watches him stand from the bed. He looks away and she almost reaches a hand out to stop him, but she doesn't. She doesn't move and as he pulls on his duster and cap she simply says, “Okay.”

When the door shuts behind him she sits in silence for a moment, listening to his retreating footsteps. The complete silence overwhelms her and she grabs the plates beside her and chucks it at the door with a scream. Tears fight to release themselves and she stands from the bed. She walks up to a wall and lets her fists collide repeatedly, anger and sadness at war to release at the same time within her. And she lets them go, because she is alone.


	7. Chapter 7

MacCready stares at the leaves of the mutfruit trees as they move in the breeze. He tries to focus only on those as he recalls what she had said to him for a fourth time. He regrets that he didn't look at her, that he didn't pay attention to her face and the emotions displayed as she spoke. Her voice was steady and wavered only once or twice. Not that he thinks she was lying, he believes that she was telling him the truth. 

The technology doesn't surprise him. From what he knows of Vault-Tec and the types of technology that he's come across, the idea isn't absurd. It was the shock of it all; the amount of information thrust upon him and the severity. And knowing what she's been through, how it all impacted her. 

_This was supposed to just be a job_ , his mind tells him. He shakes his head. He's in far too deep now. There's no way he can go back. Back to the Third Rail, doing mercenary work for caps. Pretending like there isn't a war going on, forces at play that could easily destroy the Commonwealth. As if he couldn't help in determining the fate of the people. 

He runs a hand along his face. He needs to think beyond the Commonwealth. To what's waiting for him at the Capital Wasteland. To the clock that's ever ticking in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of his original purpose. 

_I'll tell her_ , he decides. She had come completely clean with him, he thought it only right he did the same. She must of thought that was what he did last night, but he had left some of it out. The most important parts. She had taken it, and given back so much more. More than he would ever have thought she would. 

If someone would have came up to him four months ago and told him where he would end up, he would have laughed and told them to get the hell out of his face. Taking care of settlers and helping settlements, putting down roots with people and building relationships, trusting someone? Never would he have thought he would. 

_She told you she trusts you_ , he tells himself, _it's time you did the same_. 

He sighs and looks up, the sun directly over his head. He doesn't know necessarily how much time had passed between when he had left for his walk and now, but he knows it's been a while. “Time to face the music,” he mumbles and stands. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking a long drag before walking back towards the Dugout. 

When he approaches the door he lets it out, nearly finished, and steps inside. He anxiously pulls at his duster, ensuring its straight, and makes for their room in the back. Vadim looks up and he goes to wave at the bartender/innkeeper when he is stopped. “MacCready! What did you do now?” Vadim nearly yells at him from across the counter. 

“What? What do you mean?” MacCready asks, confused. He approaches the counter and stares down the older man. 

“Madalyn, she left here in a hurry after you leave earlier. She gave me your stuff because she didn't know when you would be back. She looked very upset and would barely talk to me. What did you do?” Vadim asks again, leaning against the counter and returning the stare. 

“She left?” MacCready asks, stepping back, eyes wide. “Where did she go?”

“That, I do not know. I would assume back to Sanctuary, but she was so upset she was telling me next to nothing.”

“Did she leave me a note?” MacCready asks, still in shock. “Did someone go and talk to her after I left? Maybe she received a message?” His eyes dart to the radio and he walks up to it, reaching for the dials. He stops before touching it and asks, “May I?”

Vadim shrugs and MacCready turns the tuner, listening for the tell-tale violins of Radio Freedom. The speakers let out a shriek of a violin chord and he stops turning, listening intently. He leans against the counter and tries to keep his hands still as he waits. 

A minute passes and the song ends. Silence meets his ears for way too long until he hears the familiar voice. “You're listening to Radio Freedom. There is no news to report.”

He slams his hand on the counter in frustration and quickly tunes the radio back to Diamond City Radio. “You said she left you my stuff?” he asks Vadim with a frown. 

Vadim nods and bends below the counter, lugging the bag up with him and setting it down. MacCready opens it and sees his belt and binoculars at the top. He grabs them and straps them on before searching through the rest of the bag. He finds only his provisions, ammo, spare weapons and clothes. Nothing out of the normal. He groans in frustration and looks to Vadim, “You mind if I check the room? See if she left anything there?”

Vadim nods, mouth closed tightly, and watches as MacCready shoulders his bag and heads for the room in the back. He doesn't look to Yefim as he passes, wanting to avoid the glare as much as possible. They don't know what happened, other than that she was upset and he wasn't there, so it must've been his fault. He doesn't blame them. Most people get protective of her after meeting her, especially when she helps them as she did the Bobrov’s. 

He opens the door to room three and looks around. The room sits tidy and empty, back to the way it was before they had inhabited it. He searches, hoping to find any sort of clue. His eyes land on the wastebasket and he frowns, kneeling and picking up the broken ceramic of a plate. He studies the object, confused as to what had broken it. 

His eyes travel to the wall beside the door and he bites back an curse. In the middle of a slight dent that he could swear wasn't there before lies a small streak of still-wet blood. He stands and approaches it, reaching out a hand and hovering above the red liquid. “What the heck happened here?” he asks the air. 

After searching the room for a few more minutes and coming up with nothing, he leaves the room. He walks back into the lobby and Vadim looks up at his presence, “Any luck?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

Vadim frowns, “Then you best go find her, clean up your mess.”

MacCready nods and heads for the door, “I'll find her.”

“Good boy,” Vadim says from behind him and MacCready abstains from responding to the comment, shoving the door open and walking through Diamond City. He heads for Valentine’s Detective Agency and goes inside. 

Ellie stands when he enters and she eyes him, “Can I help you?”

“Have you seen Madalyn?” he asks, looking around the small room. 

She shakes her head, crossing her arms. “No. Why, what happened?”

“We lost track of each other,” is all he tells her. 

She cocks her head, studying him. “Did you check Radio Freedom?” He nods and she frowns, “Well, I would say just head to Sanctuary. You know she'll end up there at some point.”

“Yeah, you're probably right,” he nods. He turns to the door, “Well, thanks anyways.”

“Good luck,” she calls and he nods as he leaves, hope leaving him. 

He wanders the city for a bit more time, stopping at the Radio Station, Diamond City Surplus, Arturo’s, anywhere he could think. At each location they all say they haven't seen her, but wish him luck. The concern on their faces, thinking she is missing, only adds to his guilt. 

After checking Publik Occurances, and finding the same news, he leaves Diamond City. He goes west out of the city, following the road, and then turns north. He reaches the train tracks and follows those to Oberland Station. The tall, white building comes into sight and he drops his weapon he had been holding ready, holstering it. He had been at the settlement only once before with Madalyn, and he had mostly hovered in the background at that time. 

As he nears one of the settlers steps out, gun raised, and he raises his arms. “I'm friendly,” he calls out. She regards him with a raised eyebrow and doesn't lower her weapon. 

“What do you want?”

"I was traveling with the General. We lost track of each other and I was just wanting to know if she passed through here,” he says, stepping forward slowly 

She quints at him, looking him up and down. After a beat she lowers her weapon, “I think I've seen you before. No, she hasn't been through here. Is the General in trouble?”

He shakes his head, “No. I'm just trying to catch up to her. Anything on Radio Freedom?”

She frowns, “I haven't checked. Come on, then.” She gestures for him to follow and heads for the stairs leading to the second floor. He follows and once at the top he turns and looks over what he can see of the ground below. He hears her turning on the radio behind him and violins meet their ears. While he waits he tries to spot movement, but knows it's in vain. 

“This is Radio Freedom. There is no news to report at the moment, all clear.”

MacCready slams his fist down onto the wood railing in anger. “I would go check Sanctuary,” the woman says behind him in a soft voice. 

“I'm heading there,” he says with a sigh. “Thanks,” he glances at her and nods. She smiles back and he takes down the stairs, continuing his venture north. 

He crosses the river, eyeing the road from Cambridge for ferals. He continuously checks his scope ahead as he travels the open road, his back itching at the vulnerability. The sun begins to descend above him, creeping closer towards the west. 

As the sun begins to reach the horizon Lexington comes into sight. He skirts the large factory and tries to stay as far from the city as possible. As he almost passes completely he hears a large explosion erupt from the streets inside. He stops and brings his rifle up to check the scope. He finds the cloud rising to the sky and he searches the ground below. Buildings obscure his vision and he curses, letting the rifle droop. He hears gunshots and the screeching of a feral and he looks around. He sees no reinforcements and hears no thrumming of a vertibird. 

He takes a step forward, heart pounding, and shakes his head at himself. “Could be walking into an ambush…” he mumbles, but his feet pull him farther forward and he starts to run.

He heads for the tallest building in sight, crouching low once onto the street and looking around constantly for signs of movement. He goes inside and makes his way up, footsteps silent on the stairwell. 

He reaches the top floor and finds a room with the wall blown out, the hole facing the road where the explosion and gunshots came from. He kneels on the ground in front of the broken wall and brings his rifle up, peering through the scope. 

He pans the road below where ferals roam, the majority aimlessly. He sees a group of them off to the left, screeching and flinging their arms in attack at the person in the center. He hears shots from a 10mm firing and takes a deep breath. He lines up the scope with the head of a feral and shoots. The body falls and he repeats the motion. 

After taking down three he sees the person in the center through a gap. 

“No,” he says, blood turning cold and hands freezing. He sees Madalyn standing in the middle of the group, blood streaking her clothes and across her face. She holds a wood board in one hand and her pistol in the other, swinging the board at any that get near and firing any clear shots she sees. 

“Shit,” he curses and starts firing those closest to her that he can safely take. Those on the outskirts of the group notice her and the commotion and make their way towards her. MacCready shoots as many as he can, taking down the fastest and largest to lessen the force upon her. 

Minutes pass in that fashion. He looses count of how many he drops, his only concern trying to keep them off her and taking them down the fastest. Eventually she stands alone and he shoots one still crawling on the ground, its legs taken off by her board. Silence reigns and MacCready watches as she falls to her knees, dropping the weapons in her hand. 

“Madalyn!” he calls fruitlessly. He stands and throws his rifle over his back and runs. 

He takes the stairs faster than he thought safe, jumping over any that are missing, hoping the railing doesn't give under his grip. He makes it to the ground floor and he bursts through the doors and into the street covered in bodies. Ignoring the sound of flesh under his boots he runs to where she sits slumped over. 

“Madalyn!” he calls again, reaching her side and kneeling in the blood. He reaches out and grabs her shoulders, pushing her into a straight position. She blinks and looks at him confused. 

“Mac?” she asks, voice quiet. “What are you doing here?”

“What were you thinking?” he asks, shaking her, grip tight. “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

“What? No. I thought… I heard a noise and thought someone was in trouble. Ended up walking into a nest of ferals,” she says, wincing. 

He loosens his grip and takes a calming breath. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't… I don't know,” she frowns. 

"God... come on,” he stands, pulling her with him. She leans against him heavily, energy drained, and he loops his arm around her waist. “We need to find someplace safe.”

“The drive-in isn't far,” she suggests, head lolling on his shoulder. 

“It's too far right now. I need to look you over and see if you have any severe injuries. And soon,” he shakes his head. They near the outer edges of the city and he sees a boarded up house. They step onto the porch and he sets her down onto the steps. “Wait here,” he orders. She merely nods and rests her head against the wood beside her, eyes dropping closed. 

He turns to the door and pulls his .44 from inside his duster, holding it tightly and stepping back. Bracing himself, he runs forward and kicks the door near the handle. It gives slightly under his force and he repeats the motion. 

After two more tries the door gives and he steps inside, pistol raised. He squints in the darkness and then turns to Madalyn. “Can I use your Pip-Boy?”

She nods weakly and holds up her arm. He grabs it and turns it to the flashlight function. Blinded by the light he pushes the release button and removes it from her arm. Choosing not to put it on himself he holds it in his hand and steps inside the house. 

He clears the top and bottom floors, making sure to check all the rooms to avoid surprises. He finds an intact bed on the second floor and he drops his bag on the dresser. He rushes downstairs and grabs Madalyn, hoisting her up and taking her up the stairs. He sets her on the bed and sets the Pip-Boy down, the green light illuminating the room. 

“Do you feel pain anywhere?” he asks. She shrugs and he holds back a sigh. Starting at her legs he looks for signs of injuries. He finds a tear in her pant leg, a small scratch inside the hole. He continues up, having to remove the armor in order to inspect closely. He sets the pieces aside and continues his search, finding only minor scratches and bruises on her torso and arms. A decent size wound sits on the back of her neck and she hisses when he finds it.

“It seems you got lucky,” he mumbles, grabbing two stimpaks from his bag. He sticks one near her hip and one near her shoulder, hoping to disperse the effects evenly. 

She snorts. “Lucky,” she repeats, looking at him through squinted eyes. “I'd be dead if you didn't show up.”

He shakes his head, “You would've found a way out.”

“I was cornered,” she points out in a whisper. “There was no way out. I tried.”

He says nothing, mouth going dry at the thought. He turns away from her and leans on the dresser heavily. “Why did you leave?”

Silence meets his question and he turns back around to face her. She sits on the bed, eyes closed, a pained expression on her face. “I'm tired,” she eventually says. 

“Fine. Get some rest, I'll take watch,” he says angrily. She flinches at his harsh tone and slowly lies down. He grabs mines out of his bag and makes for the door. 

Before he shuts it he hears a quiet whisper. “I'm sorry.”

He doesn't respond, shutting the door behind him, pain in his chest at the sadness infecting those two words.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another MacCready POV. The next one is Madalyn's, I promise.  
> Angst ahead.

MacCready sets mines around the outside of the house and puts the door back in place, closing off the house from the outside. He lights a few candles he had found in his search and he sits on a chair with a sigh. He leans his elbows on his knees and puts his head in his hands, trying to put his thoughts in the correct order. 

A lot had happened quickly. He tries to ignore the thoughts of what could have happened if he hadn't stopped. If he had just gone on towards Sanctuary and waited for her to arrive. Not knowing what had actually happened to her. 

_Why is it always the ferals_? He asks himself. The image of her being swarmed under a mass of ferals blends with the image of Lucy, becoming one and the same. He shakes the image away and leans back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

She had avoided answering his question. He tries to not look into it. She was tired, injured and had been nearly killed. It was the wrong time to bring it up. But he couldn't resist; he was angry. If she hadn't left, if he had been traveling with her, the ambush wouldn't have happened. 

He shakes his head, trying to remove the thoughts, and stands. He paces the room, worry ebbing at him. Part of him wants to barge upstairs and demand answers, another is telling him to leave. But he does neither; he stays in that room. 

When the sun begins to peek through the boards covering the windows he hears footsteps above. Not long after does she walk down the stairs, dressed and his pack in her hand. Blood still covers her clothes and face, one streak stuck in her hair. He doesn't glance at himself, already knowing he's in a similar but less severe state. 

“Why didn't you wake me?” she asks, frowning. 

“You needed sleep,” he responds from his position on the couch. 

She walks around him and sets their packs on the floor. She sits on the chair beside the couch and frowns, “So do you.”

“I'll be alright.”

She doesn't respond, instead reaching into her pack and pulling out provisions. She hands him one and he opens it, finding a piece of mutt chops inside. He mumbles a thanks and takes a bite, watching her do the same. 

They eat in silence, MacCready occasionally sparing glances in her direction. She stares at the floor by her feet, gaze never wandering. He frowns into his food and tries to think about how to broach the subject. 

"How did you find me?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

“You were fairly loud,” he replies. She gives him an unamused look at so he adds, “I was heading to Sanctuary to look for you, was passing Lexington when I heard an explosion. I decided to go check on it, see what it was, and then I saw you.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding and looking back down at the ground. “Well, thanks.”

"Why did you leave?” he asks again, going straight to the point. 

She frowns and doesn't look up at him. “Because I thought you had left.”

“What?” he asks, confused. 

“I thought you weren't coming back. So I left,” she tells him simply. 

“I told you I was going for a walk, to clear my head,” he says, baffled at the thought. 

“I looked around and didn't see you. And a lot of time had passed, so I figured that was your way of saying you were done…” she trails, shrugging. 

“Boss, didn't I just tell you I wasn't leaving until you told me to?”

She looks up, finally meeting his gaze. “That was before I told you… everything. Before you learned I'd been lying to you, and my son was the villain tormenting the Commonwealth.”

He shakes his head, “Still, I meant what I said. I was over by the Wall, next to the mutfruit trees. I was just trying to comprehend everything that you told me, get it all in order. There was a lot that you said.”

She groans, bringing her hands to her face. “I panicked. I thought I had run you off, because of the way you seemed after I told you. I couldn't face it so I took off.”

“It would take a lot more than that,” he smirks. She removes her hands from her face to frown at him. “Just don't do it again, okay?”

She nods and says, “I'm sorry.”

He smiles at her and shrugs, “It happened. Just do me a favor and let Vadim know it was a misunderstanding? The man looked like he wanted to wring my neck.”

She flinches, “Remind me to do that next time we're in Diamond City.”

“Will do,” he nods. After a moment of silence he asks, “So what's the plan, boss?”

“Should head back to Sanctuary. We can clean up and rest for a few days. I still don't have a plan on what to do about the Institute…” she glances at him at that mention. 

He just nods, “Okay, sounds good.” He stands and grabs his pack. He holds out a hand to her and she grabs it, allowing him to pull her into a standing position. “How's your injuries?”

“Nearly healed, I think,” she says. He grabs her hair and pulls it up to look at the wound on the back of her neck. 

“This one might take a little longer than the others. Is it bothering you?” he asks, touching the skin beside the not fully scabbed wound. 

“No, I barely notice it,” she tells him. He nods absently and drops her hair. He heads for the door and opens it, bright sunlight streaming through. 

He steps out and she follows, both blinking in an effort to get their eyes to adjust. Once on the road they continue north, both looking forward to being back in Sanctuary. 

They don't stop at Starlight Drive-In as they pass, Madalyn barely even glancing in the direction of the settlement. They travel in silence, both lost in the thoughts of their own heads. MacCready walks a few steps behind her, as usual, and he finds himself staring at the back of her head, trying to understand her thoughts. 

Even though she explained why she left he still felt there was more to it, there was something left unsaid. By the time they pass through Concord and the Red Rocket Station, the joy he feels from seeing the bridge to Sanctuary is well awaited. 

They cross the bridge and stop, Madalyn turning to face him. MacCready waits, seeing her wanting to say something. She opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Preston. “General!” he calls, walking up and looking at her with wide eyes. “What happened to you? Are you injured?”

“What?” Madalyn asks, confused. She follows Preston’s gaze to her body and she shakes her head, “Oh, I'm fine. It's not mine. Well, some of it is. But I'm fine, really.”

“Are you sure?” Preston asks, eyeing MacCready, seeing the other man in a state less than hers. 

“Nice to see you too, Preston,” MacCready says. He smiles at him cheekily and brushes past, making for the house he stays in. After walking a few feet away he glances back and sees Madalyn staring at him while Preston talks in her ear, an unreadable expression upon her face. 

He turns away and continues down the road. He ignores the stares from the others that he passes, keeping his gaze straight ahead. He approaches the house and steps inside, immediately heading for his room. He throws his pack onto his bed and removes his duster and cap, running a hand through his hair. 

“Welcome home,” he hears behind him. 

MacCready turns around quickly, hand reaching for his gun. He stops and sighs when he sees Deacon leaning against the doorframe, a smug smile on his lips. “What the heck man, you scared me,” he tells him. 

“Sorry, bro. Wasn't trying to sneak up on you,” Deacon tells him. He steps into the room and sits on the chair in the corner, slouching and looking around. “Heard you guys were back and wanted to check it out for myself. How was your little ‘adventure’?”

“None of your damn business,” MacCready frowns. He starts absently going through his pack, trying to avoid looking into the glasses. He never gets anything from behind them, so he forces himself not to try. 

“Ouch, not good then, huh?”

“If you wanna know why don't you go ask the Boss?” MacCready snaps. 

“Sometimes I think she's worse than I am when it comes to giving out information. Can never tell what really happened. Figured I'd come and talk to you, anyways. You seemed pretty angry when I saw you walk in here. Everything okay in Wonderland?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” he frowns. 

“Between you and the Boss. She pried Preston off her arm the minute he started talking and stormed into her house. Then I saw you grumping your way into here. Just wanted to see if you needed relationship advice?” Deacon grins. 

“Relationship advice? What are you trying to say Deacon?”

“Oh come on. You cant tell me nothing's going on between you guys. She almost always takes you out with her when she's on a mission. And I see the looks you give her, pining after her even from across the settlement. Then you guys go off on a mysterious mission and come back bloodied and pouting.”

“There's nothing going on. And even if there was it's none of your business,” MacCready says sternly, hand gripping the straps of his pack. 

"You're right. This is just some friendly concern, that's all. If you need to talk, you know where to find me,” Deacon says, standing from the chair and strolling out of the room. 

MacCready stands still for a moment, considering what had just happened. He shakes his head and grabs fresh clothes from his pack. He leaves his room and heads for the house with working plumbing that's used as a bathhouse of sorts. He steps inside and sees the door to the bathroom closed, a sign that it's occupied. He walks over to the couch and sits down with a sigh fatigue catching up to him. 

After a few minutes Jun Long steps out and smiles sheepishly at him. MacCready nods back and heads into the now vacant room, shutting the door behind him. He sets down his fresh clothes and starts the shower. After undressing he stands underneath the water and breathes a sigh of relief. 

He washes and then dresses, feeling lighter after cleaning the blood and grime away. He shaves in the sink, a beard starting to grow on his cheeks. Afterwards he leaves the room, door open, and heads back towards his room. 

He puts his dirty clothes aside, deciding to wash them later. He glances out the window and sees the sun slowly setting, the sky turning a soft orange. His stomach grumbles as a reminder of his lack of food and he contemplates. He hasn't slept in two days, and when you add the stress, his body is begging for rest. 

He decides to get food as quick as possible. He heads for the door and glances at the rec house. He sees a settler sitting out at the cooking station, handing out provisions to those who step up. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and heads down the road, nose leading him. 

As he nears he sees Piper and Danse standing beside the station, waiting for food. He stops beside him and Danse glances in his direction. “Hello Citizen.”

“Danse,” he replies, eyebrows raising when he sees the orange jumpsuit sticking to the Paladin’s body. “I didn't know there was a human body inside that suit of Power Armor.”

“I see your tongue has maintained it’s glibness, despite the passage of time,” the Paladin retorts. 

MacCready smirks, somewhat caught off guard at the quick response. _I'm off my game,_ he chides himself, watching Danse grab the plate of food and thank the settler. 

“That was a short battle of wits. I thought you never back down,” Piper comments, eyeing MacCready. 

“I figured I'd give him this one… the way the next time he starts off cocky and when I win the reward is sweeter,” he smirks. 

She laughs, “Right.” She grabs the plate offered from the settlers and thanks her, turning and heading inside the rec building. “Catch ya later,” she calls to him, waving a hand in his direction. 

Alone, he waits quietly while his plate is prepared. Laughter and chatter breezes from the inside of the building beside him. His plate is handed to him and he mumbles a thanks, glancing at the open door. He shakes his head and walks away, heading back towards his room.

He sits on his bed while he eats, absently staring at the wall. He allows his mind to go blank, merely focusing on bringing the food into his mouth, sating his hunger. Once finished he sets the plate aside and falls back onto his bed with a sigh. He kicks off his boots and stares at the ceiling above him, fatigue beginning to seep into his bones knowing relief is not far. 

A knock at his door startles him. He sits up in the bed with a start and stares at the door as it opens. Madalyn’s head appears and she peeks through, sheepishly looking around the room. “Mac?”

“Boss?” he asks confused, moving to stand from the bed. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shakes her head, stepping into the room. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” he replies. He stares at her, confused. “What's up?”

“Well I… I was trying to go to sleep but I was having issues and I was wondering…” she looks away, frowning. “This was silly of me. I shouldn't have-“

“Stop. It's fine,” he says. He sits back on the bed and asks, “Did you want to sleep here?”

“Is that okay with you?” she asks. He nods and she smiles, stepping around to the other side of the bed. She crawls in and under the blankets, a content smile on her face. He goes to stand, to move somewhere else, but she reaches out and grabs his arm. He looks at her, a questioning look on his face, and she merely lets go. 

Understanding the message he lies back down, back facing her. “Goodnight, boss,” he says, forcing himself to relax. 

“Night, Mac,” she replies. He smiles to the wall and closes his eyes, allowing himself to finally sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: panic attack (ish) towards the beginning.

Madalyn wakes up alone. She slowly comes to her senses, her body feeling well rested and rejuvenated after the past two days adventures. She still chastises herself for her rash behavior, for nearly running out of Diamond City and north as fast as her feet would take her. For nearly getting herself killed. 

The image of him standing before her, rage and hurt in his eyes, still burns in her mind. She saw the betrayal and fear, and knowing she put it there made it more painful for her to see. But he still protected her, helped her and took care of her when she was depleted. He stayed alert all night and made sure they were safe. 

Then when they got back, they went their separate ways. She wanted to give him space, but last night she couldn't stop herself. She made her way into his room and he welcomed her, despite all that had happened. Guilt and shame creep up her neck and she climbs out of the bed, hastily making for the back of the house. 

She steps out into the backyard, the sky a purple and red hue above her as the sun makes its appearance. She keeps low and begins to cut across the yards, making her way towards her own house. When she climbs the fence into her backyard Dogmeat crawls out of his doghouse and jogs up to her happily, tail wagging. 

“Hey, boy,” she greets him, petting him as she approaches her side door. She enters her house and looks around with a sigh, nostalgia creeping up on her. The past few days have opened old wounds, reminders of what used to be popping up more frequently since. 

Gone is the suburban dream home. What once used to be a clean, perfect environment now sits in ruin and dirt. Walls that at one time were pristine now have stains and the wallpaper hangs off in various intervals. Codsworth did try his best to keep things as they were, but since her return from the vault she has added new necessities. A magazine rack rests in front of the window, old comics and magazines that remind her of pre-war times, as well as some newer survival guides she's come across. A bobble head stand sits near her counter, figurines in various poses in some of the slots. Weapons racks decorate the walls, some of the more elaborate weapons she's come across hanging, in rotation with her regular guns and the occasional sword. All of that, in addition to the destroyed and old furniture, make the house far different than what it once was. 

She passes through the main room towards her bedroom, climbing onto the bed and curling up. She feels anger towards herself, for letting recent events get to her. Since she has woken up she learned quickly that she needed to harden herself in order to survive. She had to let her compassion slip away and harden into anger and skepticism. Of course, at moments she allows herself to soften and follow the course she knows will not be easy, but will ensure people are better off in the end. 

Suddenly, today, she feels everything come crashing down on her. She had allowed herself to open up, exposed herself and her feelings, and it's all come swarming through the crack she had started. 

Panic seizing her, she climbs off the bed and shuts the wooden panels she had bolted by the windows, to be closed when she wanted privacy. She goes to the front and side doors, sliding the locks into place. 

She makes her way back into her room and she slams the door closed behind her. She leans against the door, head falling back onto it as she focuses on her breathing. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to push away the memories and swarms of emotions overwhelming her. Images of Shaun, all three versions of him she knows, swarm in front of her and blend until she cannot tell the difference. 

A soft knock vibrates the door at her back and her eyes shoot open. She takes longer, deeper breaths in an effort to compose herself, clenching her hands tightly where they sit on her legs. 

After a beat another knock comes at the door along with a soft call, “Madalyn?”

She bites back a curse, standing and taking one more breath before opening the door. Deacon stands on the other side, his mouth set in a deep line, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Deacon? How did you… never mind,” she says, shaking her head. She tries to not be surprised by the things he does and is capable of anymore. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you close of your window and shut your doors. I was gonna let it slide but… couldn't. Is everything okay?” 

“You're worried about me?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow and crossing her arms. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Deacon smirks. 

“Aren't you the one always telling me not to trust people?” 

“Yeah, other people. Not me,” he says confidently, his smile widening. Madalyn rolls her eyes and walks past him into the hallway and towards the main room. She plops onto one of chairs at the old kitchen table and he follows suite, sitting across from her. He waits a beat for her to speak before he does. “Seriously, you can talk to me if you need to.”

“Talking is my problem,” she tells him honestly. “I've been too exposed recently and it's opened up some doors I'd prefer to be shut.”

“This have to do with what happened at the Institute?” Deacon asks. She goes to nod but freezes when he adds, “Or MacCready?”

“What?” she asks, shocked. “What do you mean MacCready?”

“It was just a thought,” he says, raising his hands in an innocent maneuver. “I was just taking into consideration the way you guys looked and behaved yesterday when you got back from your mysterious adventure. Plus the way he snapped at me when I tried to ask him about it. Add in what you just did, closing your house off like that… I figured something was up.”

“It… what… no, Deacon.” Madalyn shakes her head, groaning and bringing her hands to her eyes and rubbing ferociously. “That was nothing. There's just been a lot going on lately. And yes the Institute had part to do with it, but I'm still not sure if I'm ready to talk about that yet.”

“Okay, I get it,” he nods, leaning back in his chair and stretching a leg out to the side. He lowers his voice and says softly, “Des is asking for a detailed report about what happened. I don't think she was happy with the first report that she got. I'll hold her off as best I can but… I'm going to need to give her something good.”

“I know. I knew she wasn't happy with my vague answers but, I was still coming to terms with everything that happened. I think I still am,” she admits. 

“Like I said, I get it. I was just warning you for the day that Des really gets impatient,” he smiles lightly, trying to be assuring. 

“Thanks, Deacon,” she smiles back. 

They sit in silence for a moment and then he clears his throat, “Well, I can leave you alone like you wanted. I wasn't trying to interrupt anything, was just checking in.”

She brushes him off, “Don’t worry about me. I appreciate it, though.”

He grins, “Anytime. Just holler if you need me.”

“Will do,” she nods and watches him leave out of her side door. He shuts it behind him and she lays her head on the table in her arms. She takes a few deep breaths, the beginnings of a headache starting to grow in her temples. 

She stands from the table and makes her way back towards her bedroom. She decides to leave the door open so she could hear the rest of the house easier. She climbs onto her bed and curls up on her side. Her eyes land on the sniper rifle propped up in the corner of her room and she leaves her gaze. She tries to clear her mind by remembering the steps of how to clean it, running the movements through her mind. 

After a long time passes she drags herself out of the bed and forces herself into a change of clothes. She straps her 10mm onto her belt and slides a dagger into her boot. Pulling her hair back with a string, she heads out of her room and out the front door. 

When she opens the door to the front yard, Madalyn stops in surprise. “Um…” she starts, confused at the sight before her. 

“Hey, sport,” Nick greets from his spot. He sits on a lawn chair in front of her door, gun resting on his knee, facing towards the street. Madalyn looks up and down the road, searching for any sign of danger. She is surprised when she sees it clear, when typically at a time like this there are settlers and her friends wandering and preparing for the day. 

“What's going on, Nick? Where is everyone?” she asks. 

“They kept trying to get in your house. They were bickering and fighting over who would go in. I told them to leave you alone and, well, they did,” he shrugs. 

“I take it took some persuasion at first?” she asks, gesturing towards the pistol in his lap. 

He smirks, “I can be persuasive.”

“I know,” she smiles, crossing her arms and leaning against he door behind her. She bites her lip and then tells him, “Deacon got through, you know.”

“Yeah I had a feeling when I didn't see that little sneak with the crowd that he was up to no good. Doesn't surprise me,” Nick sighs. He spares a glance up at her across his shoulder. “You okay, kid? Do I need to go teach someone a lesson?”

“No, Nick. Don't worry, I'm okay,” she smiles. He nods and stands from the chair. 

“Good. Pretty much everyone is hiding in the rec house, so I guess I should go give them the all clear,” he says, his tone almost sad. 

She reaches out a hand and grabs his shoulder to stop him. “Wait. Was… was MacCready in the group trying to get in?” He frowns and shakes his head. “Have you seen him?” she pushes. 

“Not since you both got back yesterday,” he tells her. 

“Oh, okay,” she says and glances in the direction of the house he stays in. 

Nick opens his mouth to speak but she walks past him and towards the house across the street. She approaches her weapons bench and says to him, “Go ahead and release the hounds.”

“Yes ma'am,” he nods and tips his hat to her. She smiles and turns her back, grabbing her 10mm off her waist and beginning to take it apart. 

She listens as he approaches the rec house and talks to those inside. A cluster of voices emit from within and then Nick’s calming tone interrupts them. After a beat she sees people slowly begin to mill out in her peripheral. Many glance her way but none approach immediately. 

Preston is the first one to brave the act. “General,” he greets her. 

“Hey, Preston,” she smiles. 

“How are you doing, ma'am?” he asks. 

“I'm good. How are things?” 

“Everything's good here in Sanctuary. I've recently received words from a few settlements. Not all bad, but there are some who would benefit from your presence there,” he tells her. 

She nods, having expected something like that. “Of course. I actually should be able to head out tomorrow first thing and visit a few of the settlements. Get the list together and I'll pick it up from you later today.”

“Will do, General,” he smiles and nods. He starts to walk away but then stops and turns back to her. “If you see MacCready before me when he gets back, will you thank him again for me?”

Madalyn’s hand slips and the tool in her right hand slashes across her left. “What?” she asks, ignoring the pain. “What do you mean when he gets back?” 

Preston frowns, “I thought he would've told you. This morning I was getting some supplies ready for Starlight Drive-In and he wandered by. He asked what I was doing and then he offered to take it out there for me. He should be back in a few hours.”

“Oh, right,” she nods. She looks away from his gaze and says, “I remember now. I'll make sure to tell him you said thanks.”

“Appreciate it, General. Let me know if you need my help with anything,” he says as he turns and walks away. 

She nods and looks down at her hand. She curses when she sees the blood running down the back of it. She looks around and sees a mostly-clean rag at the end of the bench. She grabs it and wraps it around her hand, holding back a grimace as it stings. She ties it tightly and frowns at the gun sitting on the workbench, suddenly not wanting to finish what she had started. 

Madalyn let's out a sigh and then continues her work, hoping it will serve as a distraction. Slowly others begin to wander near her. All of them spur up conversation, either related to a specific matter or just general chit-chat. When the sun sits high in the sky Codsworth makes his way near her, a plate clasped tightly in one claw. 

“Evening mum,” he greets her. 

“Hey Codsworth,” she smiles. 

He ambles over and sets the plate down at the end of the workbench. “I made you some Grilled Radstag. I noticed you hadn't eaten in the three hours and forty-eight minutes you've been out here and determined that it was the appropriate time for you to ingest your next meal.”

She eyes the plate and then looks up into his large eye, “Thanks, Codsworth.”

“My pleasure, mum. Please do let me know if there is anything else you require,” he says. She nods and watches as he turns and floats back towards the cooking station. 

Madalyn glances at the plate of food and considers taking a bite. Looking back at her grease covered hands she decides to finish the task at hand before washing and eating. 

“If you're not hungry, I'll take it. I'm famished,” a voice says behind her. 

“Shit,” she curses as she jumps and drops what's in her hands. Madalyn turns to glare at the speaker but quickly freezes when she sees MacCready standing at the edge of the porch. He stares at her, amusement in his face at her reaction. “What the hell, Mac? You scared me,” she blurts. 

“And the tables have turned,” he smiles. She frowns and remembers when she scared him the day after her return from the Institute. 

“That's not fair, I didn't mean to do it that time. You did,” she accuses. 

“I wasn't trying to, actually. Just happened that way,” he says, leaning against the post beside him and crossing his arms, a smirk still on his face. 

“Sure,” she smiles back. She looks down at the plate of food, “I actually was going to finish the barrel before I ate, but you can have this if you want.”

He shakes his head, “Naw. I'll just go bribe Codsworth to make me something.”

“Suite yourself,” she shrugs. She turns back to her workbench and picks up the pieces she dropped with shaky hands. She attempts to resume what she was doing, trying to ignore the presence behind her. She spares a glance behind her to confirm he's still there before she says, “Preston wanted me to thank you for running his errand, by the way.”

There's silence before suddenly he's beside her and grabbing her left hand. “What happened?”

She frowns, “My hand slipped. It's no big deal.” 

“So you wrap it in an oily rag?” She shrugs and he sighs. He pulls at the knot and unravels the cloth. Madalyn hisses in pain when the fabric sticks to the cut, the blood hardened and clinging onto the rag. MacCready makes an apologetic noise as he pulls it off, frowning at her hand. 

He pulls out a bottle of purified water from his pack and she tugs her hand back, “Don't waste that water. It'll be okay.”

“You want to risk losing that hand?” he shoots at her. She pauses and he continues, “It needs taken care of properly.”

She stares at him hard, trying to read him. He continues to work on her hand, oblivious to her focus. “Fine,” she eventually sighs. She waits patiently as he pulls a clean piece of cloth from his bag and wraps its tightly. “Satisfied?” she asks when he releases her hand. 

He smiles cockily, “Very.” He glances at her plate of food and says, “I'm going to go grab a bite. See you around?” She nods and he turns and saunters towards the cooking station. 

Madalyn watches for a minute, mind running through what just happened. Shaking her head she turns back to her workbench and sets to finishing the barrel. When she does, she grabs her plate and sits on a stool nearby. Eating contently, she watches the settlers as they work and chat.

Suddenly, a loud boom sounds from the northern point of the settlement. Everyone freezes and turns towards the sound. A voice calls out from afar, “Super mutants!”

Madalyn drops her plate and runs.


	10. Chapter 10

MacCready sits in the rec building, stuffing his face with a plate of mutt chops. Music from Diamond City Radio flows throughout the space, mingling with the chatter from the other settlers. He doesn't pay them much attention, his mind drawn inwards as he eats and thinks. The image of Madalyn’s face when she turned and saw him remains at the front of his mind. He wanted to ask her why she looked shocked, happy and worried all at once. 

When he woke up that morning he had felt relaxed and fully rested. It took a while for him to register the heat pressed up against his side and the heavy breathing in his ear. He finally had realized that in their sleep, somehow they ended up with his arm under her head, her body curled up alongside his and her arm stretched across his stomach. 

It took him a few minutes to be able to slide off the bed without waking her. Somehow he managed and he quickly dressed and headed out the door. His heartbeat was racing and he felt shame at how his body reacted to the closeness of their situation, the intimacy that was implied. So he ran to the showers, washed himself of the situation and took care of the residual effects. 

On his way back he had come across Preston at the supply house loading a brahmin with boxes and bags. They greeted each other and when he asked the Minuteman what he was doing, he offered to take the supplies to the Drive-In. Preston gladly agreed and handed the reigns to the brahmin over. After grabbing his weapons and pack, he took off out of the settlement and headed south east. 

The walk was a good way for him to think. He was able to let his mind wander over what had occurred in the last few days, to analyze and try to figure out exactly what it all meant. After getting to the Drive-In and unloading the brahmin, he stayed for only a few minutes before dragging the beast back to Sanctuary. Upon his return he handed the reigns over and went in search of Madalyn. 

Now, as he stuffs another bite of meat into his mouth, he freezes when the building shakes. Everyone inside stops, looking around in confusion. A voice from outside yells and then the siren starts to blare. People begin to move, some running for the defensive while the old and weak head for the shelter. MacCready sets his plate down and grabs his rifle. He exits the building and looks around for the source of the attack. 

He follows Valentine as he runs past, gun drawn, towards the river. “What is it?” he calls, still not sure of the source of the alarm. 

“Super Mutants,” the old synth grumbles. MacCready grimaces and quickens his pace, making for a guard tower at the edge of the settlement. 

Gun and blaster shots fill the air. The angry, deep yells of the Super Mutants reach his ears as he climbs the steps onto the vantage point. He peers through his scope and begins to take stock of the situation. 

Storming across the river are a handful of Super Mutants. Further back into the woods he sees more running towards the settlement. A flash of red catches his eye and he focuses the scope, seeing one of them carrying a bomb and running full spring towards the largest group of fighters. MacCready inhales a breath and upon release pulls the trigger. 

The Super Mutant’s head erupts upon impact and the body drops. A few seconds later the bomb it was holding explodes, taking out another Mutant that was running past. 

MacCready pans his scope. He sees Mutants standing on the other side of the river, firing at the settlers. Nick and Piper take cover under a fallen tree, alternating taking shots and hiding under cover. The loud clanking steps of power armor reaches MacCready’s perch and he follows the sound, seeing Danse running into a group of them, laser gun firing rapidly. Deacon and Hancock flank both ends of the river, firing and ducking at random intervals. He spots Dogmeat and Codsworth in the mass of bodies as well, tearing and ripping into the Mutants. 

MacCready continues to search the field, trying to spot the familiar figure. He shoots at Mutants when they enter his scope, taking down some and maiming others. He finally finds her further down the river, closer to the bridge. Madalyn has put herself behind a blockade of house debris. She has a rifle propped up and is firing from her vantage point. He sees two other weapons by her feet, ready for whenever she needs to change. MacCready lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and he starts shooting at the ones who are firing at her. 

The fight continues for a minute and then he hears a whirring of a machine. MacCready removes his eye from the scope and looks around quickly, head turning to the left of the field when a flurry of bullets start hitting the guard tower. He ducks under the torrent of bullets. Splinters of wood fly past his face and he raises his arms around his head to protect himself. A stinging sensation erupts in his leg, a sign that one got through. MacCready hisses in pain but he focuses on listening to the machine gun, hoping for a reprieve. 

MacCready thinks he hears someone call his name and he fights off the urge to look up. When the bullets suddenly stop, he doesn't hesitate to bring his rifle up and on top of the tower ledge, aiming in the direction the bullets had been coming from. He hears the machine gun begin to power up once more as he peers through the scope, aiming for the face of the Mutant holding it in it's large hands. The bullets begin to fly, but not in his direction. He takes a deep breath and then squeezes the trigger. 

The Mutant stumbles, almost dropping the gun. MacCready curses when he realizes he had only grazed it’s neck. He aims once more and almost smirks when he realizes the Mutant is getting shot at from three different directions as well, the others attempting to take down the larger threat. He squeezes the trigger again and nearly cheers when the Mutant falls to the ground, defeated. 

MacCready looks around, taking stock of their progress. Only three Super Mutants remain. Danse takes on one, Dogmeat distracting another while Valentine shoots at it. The last one is cornered by Piper and Hancock, immediately filled with bullets. He looks around for Madalyn and sees her kneeling over Deacon, shoving a Stimpak into his shoulder.

MacCready descends the tower, grimacing when he puts pressure on his leg. Shoving the pain aside he walks towards the river, eyeing the trees on the other side for signs of movement. He wades across the river and steps across the fallen bodies of the Super Mutants. He continues onwards and walks a half a mile into the wooded area and hears the sounds of others behind him. He stops when he has a good vantage point and checks his scope, looking for signs of more. 

When he finds none he turns around and faces his followers, Valentine and Danse. “All clear.”

“I'll go on a little further and secure the perimeter, citizen,” Danse says. 

“Suite yourself,” MacCready tells him, waving off the soldier and heading back towards the settlement. Valentine follows silently, both worn after the unexpected battle. 

When they come in sight of the settlement Valentine reports the all clear. As they cross the river he says to MacCready, “You should go get that leg taken care of.”

“Yeah,” MacCready murmurs. “Thanks, old man.”

Valentine nods and goes to help the settlers clean up the aftermath. MacCready limps towards the center of the settlement in the direction of the rec house. A few others are walking in that direction ahead of him, nursing wounds. He glances towards the shelter where he sees a stream of people coming out, looking at the direction of the battle in awe and fear. 

He enters the building and pauses at the doorway. A mass of bodies fill the large room, most sitting down on a couch or chair while a few others move around, nursing the wounded. He glances down at his leg, considering whether it was worth the time and resources. 

A hand grabs his arm, jerking his attention. “Mac! Are you hurt?” Madalyn asks, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Hey, Boss,” he says with a smile, trying to hide his surprise at her appearance. He glances at her, looking for wounds, and almost breathes a sigh of relief when seeing her unscathed. He gestures to his leg, “Not too bad. Got snagged by a stray when that machine gun was going off.”

She drags him over to a couch, shoving him down. “What's with you and getting shot in the goddamn leg?” she asks, bending down and lifting his pant leg, exposing the injured calf. 

“Luck, I think,” he says, wincing when she touches the spot. 

“That's the only place you got hit?” she asks, glancing up at him. He nods, not trusting his words while she feels around the wound. “Well at least this time it went clean through.”

“Gee, that's good news,” he mumbles, holding back a grunt when she shoves the stimpak in his leg. “You're always so gentle with those, you know that?”

“Not supposed to be,” she replies, dressing it for extra measure. She rises into a standing position and smiles, “You'll be good as new in no time.”

“Fantastic,” MacCready grumbles. He stands and tests the leg, already able to put more weight on it than before. “Thanks, Boss.” She nods and they stand in awkward silence for a moment. “So, any idea why they risked attacking this joint?”

Madalyn sighs and crosses her arms. “No idea. Could be because we've taken out a few of their bases. I know they're a little dumb, but didn't realize they'd think of attacking outright like that,” she says. He nods in agreement and she adds, “Gotta give them credit, though. That was a huge effort on their part.”

MacCready huffs a laugh, “Right. Lot of good it did them. We take any major damage?”

She shakes her head, “Not really. Just a few injured and the guard posts on that end took a lot of damage from that damn machine gun. But that's it.”

MacCready nods absently, out of questions. He spares a glance around the room and says, “Well, I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.”

He turns to go but she grabs his arm to stop him. “Will you come over to my place later tonight? There's something I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees. She beams a smile and lets him go. “Catch ya later,” he says and turns and heads out the door. 

When back out into the open air MacCready stops and takes a deep breath. He glances at the sky and sees the sun had begun on its descent. With still a few more hours of daylight to kill, he heads back over to the river to offer his help. 

He works with the others on looting all the weapons and ammo, carrying them over to the storage house. They move the bodies to a large pile on the other side of the river, others gathering wood to create a pyre to burn them. 

When they are finished they make their way back towards the settlement. As he passes the guard posts he sees a turret added to the defenses, spinning in place and ready to attack the first hostile. Most of the other settlers head towards the cooking station, famished after the long day. MacCready follows, his stomach leading the way. 

He grabs a bowl of radstag stew and sits on a bench outside the rec building, not wanting to be in the stuffed room. He listens to the sounds from inside as they float through the open door. Laughter and music reach him, but he merely sits and contemplates his next move. 

She had said she wanted to talk to him, in private. _What could that possibly mean?_ he wonders. After all of the events in the past few days, it could be about anything. 

He tries not to let it bother him as he eats and watches the sun drift downwards. When he finishes he sets the bowl aside but doesn't move, merely waiting for right time. 

When the sky begins to turn dark and the sun is a mere hill on the horizon, MacCready rises from his seat and makes his way towards Madalyn’s house.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer*  
> I use some of the dialogue from the game, but I do not take credit. That is property of Bethesda Games. I merely use it as a part of the story to keep it (mostly) canon compliant and as a plot tool.  
> *Thank you*

Madalyn sits at her counter, an old Tumblers Today in her hand. She reads in an effort to distract herself as she waits. She had hidden away in her house hours ago, having completed her rounds and grabbed a ration of food as she passed the cooking station. After she ate she had first paced the span from her kitchen to the living room. Then she straightened the bobble heads, reorganizing them into a different lineup. Then she polished one of the swords that had been hanging on her wall. Eventually she browsed her magazine rack and picked up a random one, hoping it will keep her distracted. 

A knock resounds from the front door and Madalyn's head snaps up to attention. She sees MacCready standing on the other side, gazing at her with amusement. “Doing some light reading?” he asks. 

“Just passing the time,” she responds. He nods but doesn't move. She gestures him forward, “Come on in. Shut the door behind you.”

He complies, moving inside and quietly closing the door. He moves over to the counter where she sits and he settles on the stool opposite of her. “How you doing, Boss?” he says. She glances at him and sees him looking a little uncomfortable. “You okay after dealing with all those fu-freaking Super Mutants? That was a nice surprise.”

Her head shoots in his direction and she asks a question that's been bugging her, “MacCready, why are you always stopping yourself from cussing?”

“What?” he asks, caught off guard. 

“You know I don't care, I do it too. Why do you stop yourself? I've heard you do it many times.”

He stares at her, considering, and then he sighs, “Yeah… I figured you'd ask me about that sooner or later. It-it's not about you. It's about a promise I made. When I left the Capital Wasteland I didn't just leave Little Lamplight behind, I left a family behind.” He pauses, almost stopping himself from continuing, but pushes forward. “I... had a beautiful wife named Lucy, and a son we named Duncan.”

Madalyn freezes, her heart beat increasing substantially. She feels his gaze as he stares at her, waiting for a response. Eventually she opens her mouth and says, “I had no idea.”

“I know. But he's the one I made my promise to, a promise to clean up my act and be a better person. But I guess that sounds pretty stupid coming from someone who shoots people for a living,” he shakes his head. 

“I don't know what to say,” she says truthfully. 

He smiles sadly, “Sure you do. You want to tell me how cruel it was to leave them behind. My son… he's sick. I don't know what's wrong with him.”

She frowns, “What happened?”

He shakes his head, his face sad, “One day he's playing out in the fields behind our farm, and the next he took a fever and these blue boils popped up all over his body. Last I saw he was almost too weak to walk. I didn't dare ask him to come with me. Honestly, I don't know how much longer he's going to last.”

“And there's no cure, no doctor who can help?” she asks, her stomach doing flip flops at the thought. She remembers the desperation she felt when she realized Shaun was in trouble. Adding in that he knows _where_ his son is, but can't help, is worse. 

He gives her a sad smile, “Trust me, I tried everything I could think of.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at his hands on the counter, “I wasn't going to do this tonight. You've already done so much for me and I feel horrible asking for more. But, if you're willing to risk it… I might have a way we can save him.”

“How risky?” she asks, confused, thinking it must be pretty bad if he hadn't done it already. 

“I'm not going to lie to you, it's no walk in the park. If it was easy I would've already done it myself. But, I really need your help on this one. Duncan needs you too,” he finally looks up at her. She sees the desperation there and wonders why he hadn't brought it up before. Why she didn't realize there was more he wasn't telling her. 

“Of course,” she assures him. He smiles at her and she says, “Tell me the details.”

“A few months before we met I bumped into a guy named Sinclair who calmed his buddy caught some kind of disease. I thought he was wasting my time until he said his partner broke out into blue boils. They dug up information about a cure at a place called Med-Tek Research. They even managed to grab the buildings lock down security codes. Unfortunately, Sinclair’s buddy died before they managed to break into the facility. I mean… there's no way that's a coincidence right? Med-Tek has to be the place.”

“Do you think you can you trust him?” she asks. 

He shrugs, “To be honest, I don't know him from Adam. But he brought up the blue boils and the sickness his partner suffered from. There's no way that's a coincidence, or a trap. Wouldn't make any sense. If Sinclair says Med-Tek research is the place then that's where I need to go, otherwise I got nothing else.” 

“I hope so,” she says softy. 

“For Duncan's sake… I do too,” he agrees. 

She studies his sullen expression and reaches out a hand, grabbing onto his own. “Mac, I promise I'll do what I can to help you. I'll do whatever it takes to get you that cure, for Duncan.”

“You've got so much on your plate already, are you sure?” he asks. When she nods he grips her hand back, saying, “What you're doing, no ones ever cared for me that much before. Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I'll repay this debt to you. I swear it.”

“Don't worry about that,” Madalyn insists. She slowly withdraws her hand from his. “I'm doing this because I want to, not because I feel obligated or to get a favor in return. You're my friend, Mac.”

He beams a smile, “Thanks, Boss.” They sit in silence for a moment and then he asks, “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Hm?” Madalyn asks, confused. He just stares and she says, “Oh, that.” She pauses, remembering why she wanted him to stop by in the first place. Deciding against it, she says, “I told Preston that I'd leave to go to some settlements tomorrow. I was going to ask you to tag along. Finch Farm is on the list and I know that's near Med-Tek, so we can stop there while we're out. Does that work for you?”

“Course. Meet at the bridge at first light?” he asks, rising from his chair. 

“You know it,” she smiles. 

He hesitates at the door and she waits patiently. Eventually he glances at her eyes and then says, “Night, Boss.”

“Goodnight, MacCready,” she responds. He leaves, shutting the door behind him, and she lets out a deep breath. 

_He's **married**_ , she thinks and groans, dropping her head onto the counter. Why had he not mentioned it before? She wonders what Lucy looks like, if she's waiting with Duncan for MacCready to return. Why didn't he stop her when she offered to sleep in the same bed? Then again, maybe such an act is thought differently in this time. 

Madalyn sighs and stands, heading towards her bedroom. She stands and stares at the bed, frowning at it. An image of Nate flashes into her mind and she fights away the guilt. She still loves Nate with all her heart. But she knows he would want her to move on eventually. However, she knows now is not the time. 

She had wanted to talk to MacCready about her going without him to those settlements. When considering the events that had transpired between them later, she knew she was getting close to him. But she also knew she eventually needed to deal with the Institute. And she couldn't let herself do that while entertaining those feelings that had begun to affect her actions. She was hoping that some time apart would prove beneficial. And then he dropped this bomb of information on her. 

She shakes her head, wanting to brush the thoughts away and attempt to get a full night of sleep. She falls into the bed with a sigh and closes her eyes, focusing on her breathing and the hum of the generators outside as she tries to pull the darkness of sleep upon herself.


	12. Chapter 12

MacCready stands at the edge of the bridge, leaning against a post and smoking a cigarette. He squints at the rising sun, mind still tired and foggy from an uncomfortable rest. He takes one final drag before dropping the bud and stomping on it. He glances down the road, looking for signs of where Madalyn is. He frowns in disappointment when seeing it clear. He sighs and leans further against the post supporting him, letting his chin drop onto his chest as he tries to get comfortable. 

Minutes pass until he hears footsteps on the concrete. He looks up and sees Madalyn walking towards him, two stuffed packs on her back and her body covered in armor. “Hey, Mac,” she smiles. “You ready?”

“Thought you'd never ask,” he says and pushes himself off the post. He eyes the pack, “You want me to carry that for you? Just say the word.”

“Sure, if you want,” she says. She shrugs one off her should and hands it to him. “Come on, let's head out.”

He follows her as she leads the way across the bridge. They immediately fall into their familiar silence. She waves at the settler standing guard at the Red-Rocket station as they pass, but doesn't stop to chat. As they begin to enter the confines of Concord she says, "We’ll hit Tenpines Bluff first, then work our way south towards Taffington after that. I figure we'd hunker down there for the night and then start early towards Med-Tek tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods, following her as she silently moves through the streets. They don't speak again as they move through the town and towards the east. 

They crest the hill leading towards the Bluff, fighting off a few mongrel hounds along the way. When the enter the settlement Madalyn approaches a settler and they speak for a moment. MacCready leaves respectable distance as he always had. A strange feeling tugs at him as they resume their typical duties. They continue to act as they always had but there's a difference in the air. MacCready can feel it, and he can tell in her set shoulders and blank expression that she can do. But he cannot tell whether it is something to be fixed, or if it is too late. 

“They're having an issue with some raiders,” Madalyn interjects, pulling him from his thoughts. MacCready turns and sees her regarding her Pip-Boy, “Figure we can hit it on our way back from Finch Farm.” He nods in response and she looks up at him curiously, “You good, Mac?”

“Never better. We heading out?” he asks. She nods and waves goodbye to the settlers as they make their way south and down the hill. They make it onto the road and continue to follow it down. Their travel is relatively clear, aside from the appearance of a few bloatflies. 

When the Taffington Boathouse comes into sight the sun is high in the sky. MacCready looks through his scope and peers in the direction of the house. “Boss,” he says, catching her attention. Madalyn slows her pace and glances at him curiously. “They're both at their guard stations with weapons hot. Looks like they're on edge.”

“Got it,” she nods. She takes a wide arc through the grass to the front of the house, keeping her weapon holstered. When she's within sight the settlers jump and aim their weapons at her. Madalyn raises her hands in a defenseless manner. “It's just me!” 

“General!” the man breathes in relief, lowering his weapon. “Thank god you're here.”

“What seems to be the problem?” she asks, resting her hand on her hip and tilting her head curiously. MacCready takes a deep breath and looks away, trying to stay focused on their perimeter. 

“We caught a handful of gunners snooping around the bushes a few days ago. When we confronted them they just turned tail and ran. We figured that wasn't a good sign, that they were just scoping out the place, so we've been on alert every since. We've done what we can to build defenses but our supplies are limited. Do you think you can help us?”

Madalyn glances at MacCready at the mention of gunners and he holds back a flinch. She turns her attention back to the settler and asks, “How many days ago exactly?”

“Two,” comes the reply. 

Madalyn looks at MacCready full on, “Mac.”

“Definitely gonna be tonight. Must've spent all day yesterday preparing themselves. Wouldn't wait any later I figure,” he tells her honestly. 

She nods, resting a finger on her chin. “That's what I thought.” She gestures to the bag on MacCready’s back. “There's some mines in there. Why don't you go ahead and set them up around the street and at the side of the house and we'll start building more barricades.”

MacCready nods and walks away while she continues to talk and prepare the settlers. He makes quick work of setting the mines and then helps them gather their weapons and ammo into a pile. After setting up another defensive post Madalyn divides the weapons between the four of them. She cordons the two settlers off in posts closer to the house, hoping to keep them farthest from the fight. MacCready climbs on top of the boathouse, positioning himself somewhat out of sight but still able to have full view of the road ahead. Madalyn tucks herself between a large rock and a tree, constantly checking both sides for a sign of movement. 

When they finally get settled the sun is beginning it's descent, the sky already turning a darker orange. MacCready keeps his eye to his scope, constantly panning through his field of vision 

He almost misses the movement. Towards the right he sees a flicker of movement and he lets loose a sharp, short whistle. Madalyn glances up at him and then looks in the same direction. She nods, checks one more that her weapon is loaded, and then charges. 

The fight is quick. MacCready counts a total of eight gunners, and he was able to take out three before they neared the house. Madalyn shoots down three as they charge her, and the settlers together kill one. For the last one, both MacCready and Madalyn took a shot and neither could tell which is the one to blow off the head of the gunner. 

MacCready climbs down off the boathouse and can hear the settlers praising Madalyn as he loots the bodies. They ask how they can thank her and she mentions them bunking down at the house for the night. Of course the settlers agree. 

The rest of the night is spent looting and clearing the bodies while one settler makes a meal. While they all eat Madalyn chats idly with the settlers and MacCready sits off to the side. When they rise for bed, they are directed to the top floor where three mattresses litter the wooden floor. Without saying much they both climb onto their own and get ready for sleep. 

Madalyn breaks the silence. “Big day tomorrow. We both need to try to get decent sleep.”

“You still sure about this?” MacCready asks. 

“Yes. I don't know why you keep asking me that,” she frowns. 

“I just want to be positive. This is a lot I'm asking,” he tells her. 

“Then consider it as me offering instead of you asking,” she retorts. 

“That doesn't help much.”

“Well, I tried,” she sighs. She falls back onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling. “Night, Mac.”

He does no get much sleep that night. Most of it is spent staring at the ceiling, listening as the wind whistles through the broken windows. Occasionally he would focus on the sound of her soft breathing beside him, knowing the sound has helped him lull into sleep before. But, it has no effect. 

When the sky begins to brighten outside he rises from the bed. He quickly and quietly gathers his things and makes his way down the stairs. As he steps outside he glances around and takes a deep breath, knowing that soon they would be leaving to Med-Tek. That they are closer to his goal. 

He doesn't have to wait long before he hears the sound of feet coming down the steps inside. He hears Madalyn talking softly to one settler before she joins him outside. She looks at him questioningly and MacCready nods. Without a word she begins their journey east. 

They watch the sun rise in front of them as they walk. It seems almost far too soon when they see the large building of Med-Tek looming in the distance. She skirts them south, staying away from the cluster of buildings between them and their destination. 

As they approach the road MacCready warns her, “There's a lot of ghouls in that parking lot in front of it.”

She nods and starts forward slowly, eyeing the broken down card. “Wait!” MacCready hisses, reaching out and grabbing her arm. He pulls her down into the tall grass at their feet. 

“What?” she whispers. He nods towards the end of the street and she curses, “Shit.”

MacCready holds back his own curses as they watch the Deathclaw walking slowly down the road. It lumbers around aimlessly, oblivious of their presence. “We can't get near the building without alarming the ghouls, and fighting the ghouls would get its attention. And we can't fight it without the ghouls joining in either.”

“Great,” she mumbles, eyes trained on the beast. “We'll have to lure it away and kill it first.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” MacCready asks, adrenaline pumping through his body already. 

“I'll do it. I'm quicker,” she says simply. MacCready bites his tongue, wanting to argue but knowing it would be futile. “There should be a submachine gun in that pack and a handful of grenades. I'll take the submachine gun and use it closely, you lob grenades at it as it's running for me. There's also a .50caliber in there with a short scope. You can hunker down over by that tree and hit it with the hard shots.”

“You really think that'll work?” he asks. She nods and he runs a hand down his face, “Okay.” 

They grab all their required weapons from the pack and stash it nearby. Madalyn straps a few grenades on her belt for extra measure and stares at the Deathclaw in silence. MacCready goes to head to his cover but hesitates, “Be careful. If it gets too close to you, keep running. Don't take any unnecessary risks.”

She smiles at him, “Don't worry about me. Just wish I'd have brought my power armor.”

He smiles and says, “We can go back if you like.”

“Naw, this'll be fun,” she says. He nods and takes off, heading for the aforementioned tree. When in place he watches her as she waits for the Deathclaw to be headed in her direction before charging. 

He watches her run at the Deathclaw. She raises her gun and fires one single, carefully placed shot at its leg. The Deathclaw lets loose a roar and she turns, running in his direction. The Deathclaw follows and MacCready glances at the parking lot and sees no movement. 

When at a good distance from the road she drops a grenade behind her and when it explodes she turns and lets loose a rain of bullets. MacCready fires as well, occasionally throwing out a grenade. She kites it along, sprinting and seeming to know when it pauses because she would then turn and fire upon it. 

They fight like that for many minutes until eventually the Deathclaw lets out one long bellow and then falls to the ground. They both wait, watching for any more movement. When a minute passes MacCready steps out and fires one, close shot into its head for extra measure. Madalyn steps beside him and he glances at her. “Are you injured?”

“Just out of breath,” she smiles, taking a deep breath for emphasis. 

He shakes his head, “You are one lucky gal, you know that?”

“I have my moments,” she says as she crouches down to inspect the body. MacCready checks the area around them while she loots, holding back a grimace at the sound of tearing flesh behind him as she works. 

It's not long before she rises and stands beside him. “Anything good?” he asks. 

“I think. Hard to tell with all the goo around it, will have to clean it later to see what I got.”

“Sounds delicious,” he remarks and smirks at her exasperated look. “You ready for round two?”

“Lets hope this one will be easier,” she says and begins walking towards the parking lot and reloading her weapon. MacCready shakes his head but follows, preparing himself for the horde of feral ghouls waiting for them.


	13. Chapter 13

The door shuts behind them with a bang. Madalyn cringes at the sound and looks around the front room, alert, checking for ferals. None come in sight and they wait a beat before relaxing. She takes in the large, destroyed room, looking at the faded “Med-Tek Research” sign above the front desk. 

“Alright, we have to find the executive terminal. Sinclair said that's the only way to override the facilities lockdown,” MacCready says beside her. She nods and walks forward, gun held aloft, waiting for the telltale signs of ferals lying in wait. 

They round the front desk and make for the room in the back. “Looks like a decontamination chamber,” Madalyn says. She approaches the terminal and curses. “Damn, its shut down while the lockdown is in effect.”

“That's why we need the executive terminal,” MacCready says with a nod. 

They check the room on the left, looting the locker room of what they find. Afterwards they make for the hallway in the back. They enter the larger section and hear the grunts of a feral, watching it rise from the rubble. They each fire, quickly shooting it down, and wait for more. 

Once clear they check the bathrooms before making for the stairs. She peers into the stairwell slowly, looking up at the broken steps. They go up the first flight and enter a room with two rows of desks. She scans the debris and steps into the room quietly. 

Three ghouls come out at them and she and MacCready quickly dispense of them. After searching the floor they continue up, encountering more ghouls on the next level. They cross the hallway and enter a small office with a shut door on the opposite wall. They approach the door slowly, hearing the footsteps on the other side. 

She shoots MacCready a glance and he nods, rifle held ready. She takes a deep breath and opens the door, bringing her gun up and shooting the first ghoul she sees. They enter the room and MacCready’s eyes land on the intact terminal on the desk. “Check the terminal on the desk over there. Sinclair’s passcode better work, or we’re screwed,” he says and hands her a piece of paper. 

She nods and walks over to the desk, wiping the dust off the screen. She types in the password and is looking for the right option when she hears a sneeze behind her, surprising her and causing her to jump. “Dust is going right up my nose,” he says, wiping under his nose. 

“Damn you scared me,” she says. 

He grins, “Sorry.”

She shakes her head and chooses the option [Alert Override: Off]. The screen shows a successful message and MacCready breathes a sigh of relief behind her. 

“Thank god that worked. Lets find our way to the sub-level. That's where Med-Tek should be stowing the cure,” he says. 

“We're getting closer,” Madalyn tells him with a smile, feeling better at being closer to their goal. He only nods in response and she tries not to frown, curious at his stoic expression. 

They loot the room before making way down the collapsed floor onto the level below. After inspecting that room they hop through the hole leading back down into the locker room. “Gotta love shortcuts,” he says sarcastically, landing beside her on the ground. 

She shoots him a smile and then goes back towards the decontamination room, using the terminal to open the airlock doors. They walk through the airlock and enter the next section of the building. 

After taking out the turret she opens the security doors, ghouls immediately pouring out of the open doors. She curses and takes them out as quickly as she can, blood pumping loudly in her ears. Once they are eliminated they check the rooms and make their way further into the building. 

As they go up a flight of stairs her pip-boy starts bleating slowly and her eyes land on a large machine in the center of the room, a biohazard sign large in the center. She catches MacCready’s eye and gestures towards it. He nods in recognition and they skirt the machine, heading for the door across the hall, watching a ghoul stumbling around through the window. 

Once through the door they shoot it down quickly, scanning the room and continuing on. When they round the corner they see one sitting on a counter, waving its arms around erratically. Madalyn takes a deep breath and then fires multiple shots. It jumps off the counter and sprints for her, lunging in her direction. Fear shoots through her as it's arms grab her but suddenly the head explodes, blood splattering her. 

“Ugh,” she groans, wiping at the blood. She looks at MacCready and sees him gripping his rifle tightly, staring at her with wide eyes. “Thank you,” she says. 

He clears his throat and nods, turning and looking down the room. “Well that's nice,” he says. 

She looks and sees two isolation chambers at the end of the room. The doors are closed but each holds a feral, both of them staring at her and MacCready, grabbing at the windows. She approaches slowly, not entirely trusting the glass. “I don't think we should leave them…” she says. She looks at him and he frowns, looking like he wants to disagree. 

Eventually he shrugs, “Alright boss.”

He holds his rifle ready and she approaches the terminal. She chose the option to open the doors and they open with a hiss. She steps back, raising her gun, and the ferals step out of the rooms. She and MacCready shoot them down quickly and afterwards he says, “Feel better?”

She frowns at him and doesn't respond, walking around the room and checking drawers. He goes and waits by the elevator, watching her walk around, not saying anything else. After a minute she joins him and presses the call button. The doors come open with a ding and they step inside. He presses the button and the elevator shakily carries them down, the only sound the hum of the motors. 

When it comes to a stop the door opens and a putrid smell smacks Madalyn in the face. “Ugh, smells horrible. I think we're the first ones down here in a long time,” MacCready says. “The sooner we find that cure, the sooner we can get the heck out of here.”

She coughs and nods, looking around through squinted eyes. They make their way through and into a large room. Locked doors line the walls and they see ferals stumbling around inside. They take down the two turrets and scan the room below. “I think we have to go through one of these doors,” she tells him. 

“Great,” he grumbles. 

They head for the small security room in the back and she first picks the lock on the security gate. After grabbing the ammo inside she turns to the terminal. “I'll turn on the protectron, get some extra help,” she tells him. 

He nods, “Won't hear any complaints from me.”

She turns on the protectron and then opens the security doors, hearing them hiss open and ferals escape into the room. The firing of the protectron’s laser gun travels up to them and they join the fray. Ghouls from the top level run at them and they hear the firing from below stop. “That one lasted long,” MacCready grunts, shoving a ghoul away from him.

They fight off the horde and eventually a pile of bodies sit at their feet. “Have I ever mentioned I hate ghouls?” she asks him. 

“Yeah, me too,” he mumbles, checking the bodies quickly. Afterwards they check all of the rooms, eventually finding one with a collapsed floor leading down one more level. 

They walk down slowly and when they round the corner see four ferals wandering at the end. She switches to her scoped .308 and they each take aim. Simultaneously they take the heads off of two. The other two ferals sprint at them and she switches back to her laser gun, firing shots in quick succession, trying to take them down before they reach her and MacCready. 

Once down they enter the room and her pip-boy complains. She scans the room and her eyes fall onto the machine at her right. She pops out the fusion core and pockets it as MacCready begins to search the rest of the room. They then make their way deeper and down, eventually entering a large hall that circles around a room. “I think this is it…” he whispers. 

She nods and they clear out the hallway. They stand outside the door in front of the terminal. “You ready?” she asks. He nods and she takes a deep breath before touching the keyboard and entering the command for the door to open. 

Three ferals and a glowing one come into sight. Madalyn curses and starts firing, throwing a grenade into the group. Two are taken out by the grenade and MacCready starts firing at the glowing one. Her pip-boy starts beeping as it nears and she shoots down the last feral quickly. The glowing one hits MacCready hard and he yells in pain, swinging the butt of his rifle at its face and trying to get it away. Madalyn reaches into her belt and pulls out her knife, digging it into the glowing one’s head. It hisses in pain and turns to her, the knife sticking from its head. 

She backs up and starts firing at its chest, laser beams flying towards it, and it stumbles. It continues to advance towards her and the pip-boy on her wrist goes crazy. “Shit,” she says as it reaches for her. 

The knife is torn from its head, a disgusting squish of flesh reaching her ears, before it is shoved back in even harder. The head splits in two and its body falls to the ground at her feet. 

MacCready stands on the other side, hand gripping the knife tightly, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” he asks her. 

She nods, taking a gulp of air, “Just need a dose of Rad-Away… you?”

“And maybe some moonshine to go with it,” he says, smiling for the first time that night. She smiles back and heads for the room. 

They both begin searching frantically. Papers fly to the ground and syringes are grabbed in haste. Eventually she spots a different vial and grabs it gingerly. “Prevent… is this it?” she asks, holding it up to him.

MacCready runs over to her and looks at the vial in her hands, eyes wide. “That's it!” She holds it out to him and he shakes his head, “I… don't think I trust myself with that. Do you mind carrying it? You have softer things in your pack, anyways.”

“Sure,” she says, removing her bag from her back. She opens it and grabs everything cloth and encompassing, wrapping the vial in it as gingerly as she can. She tucks it bundle at the top where it wouldn’t easily be crushed and then shoulders her pack once more. 

He stares at her as she finishes and then he takes a deep breath. “We did it… holy crap we actually did it. We actually gave Duncan a fighting chance to live. I don't know how I will be able to pay you back for this. I owe you big time.”

“All I care about is curing Duncan, you don't need to repay me,” she tells him, smiling softly. 

He smiles back sadly. “I'm getting tired of always taking instead of giving. Maybe one day I'll get my priorities straight. I just need to get this to Daisy back in Goodneighbor. Her caravan contacts will be able to get it to him in no time. This is the last favor I'm going to ask of you,” he tells her. 

“Mac, no problem. I'll need to sell some of this junk anyways, and I'm sure Kent Connelly is due for a visit. We can head to Finch Farm and bunk there for the night, then go to Goodneighbor tomorrow,” she says. 

“Sounds good. And the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I'll be able to actually breathe,” he says, swatting at the air in front of his nose.

She nods in agreement and they start towards the elevator across from the lab they are in. The take it back to the main floor and don't hesitate to leave the building, both anxious to leave. When they step outside Madalyn looks up and sees the sun hidden behind buildings to the west, the light fading from the sky. “I didn't realize we were in there that long,” she mumbles. 

“We better hurry then. Don't want to get caught wandering in the dark,” MacCready says from her side. Madalyn nods and they both start east at a quick pace. 

They reach Finch Farm just as the sky turns black. Madalyn finds Abraham Finch and he greets her warmly. He thanks her for coming and alerts her of a potential settlement nearby, full of feral ghouls, but otherwise a decent place for people to live. She thanks him and he offers them a mattress to sleep in for the night. 

They both fall asleep easily, tired after the long and brutal day. The morning comes too soon and they rise and help the Finch’s with their morning chores, considering it payment for their hospitality. By midday their bid farewell to the family and then head south, wanting to hit Goodneighbor by nightfall. 

As they travel Madalyn watches MacCready in the corner of her eye, his silence unsettling. She doesn't intrude, however, and they travel in silence as they head towards the city. 

They move silently and quickly. They pass by large buildings and hear movement from inside, but a look exchanged between them shares the desire to keep moving. They climb over rubble while sticking to the sides of blocked off buildings, following the familiar path towards Goodneighbor. 

The gate comes into sight and Madalyn lets out a relieved breath. They holster their weapons as they pass through and stop on the other side, glancing around the familiar streets. Madalyn glances at MacCready and sees his eyes boring into the Daisy’s Discounts store. They see the old ghoul standing behind the counter, leaning casually across the top. “You ready?” Madalyn asks him. 

He nods, “Yeah. Let's do this.” They approach the shop, MacCready taking the lead. 

When they enter the building Daisy stands straight and smiles at them. “MacCready! Haven't seen you in a while. You haven't been avoiding me, have you?”

He shoots her a cocksure grin, “Now, how could I stay away from someone as cute as you, Daisy?”

“Ugh, you're a lousy liar, but I'll play stupid and pretend I don't know that. So, what do you need?” she asks, leaning her elbows on the counter and regarding him closely. 

He smiles lightly at her and says softly, “I got it, Daisy. I found the cure to Duncan's disease.”

She beams a smile, “Oh my god! That's wonderful news. How'd you do it? Last time you tried those ferals almost chewed you to bits.”

H glances at Madalyn and she steps closer to the counter. “I didn't do it alone,” he says. “My friend here got me through Med-Tek. Now, all I need to do is get the cure into Duncan's hands. Can you help me?”

“Of course, MacCready. You've saved my behind more than once, it's the least I can do,” she nods. Madalyn puts her pack on the counter and starts to dig through it. She grabs the tightly wrapped vial and unveils it, relieved at seeing it whole. She glances at MacCready for confirmation and Daisy speaks up, “It's okay, you can trust me. I swear I'll get the cure to Duncan.”

“Circling back around, what did MacCready do to help you out?” Madalyn asks, still holding onto the vial. 

Daisy smiles and answers, “Running a business in a town like Goodneighbor is a challenge. Let's just say I've had my share of unfriendly customers and MacCready’s been there to help me handle the situation.”

Madalyn nods, not surprised to hear such a thing about him. “If MacCready trusts you, then I do too,” she tells Daisy and hands over the Prevent. 

Daisy takes it gingerly and places it on a shelf under the counter. “Then it's settled. I'll get sample on the first caravan leaving the Commonwealth. The driver owes me a few favors and he's reliable. It will arrive at your homestead in no time, MacCready.”

“Thanks. You're a doll,” MacCready beams and nods to her, turning and stepping out of the shop. 

Madalyn smiles at Daisy, “See you around, Daisy.”

Daisy nods and says, “Hey, do me a favor. Take care of MacCready for me. He's one of the good ones.”

Madalyn inclines her head. “I will,” she says and grabs her pack, following MacCready out into the street. 

She stops to stand beside him and he looks at her, smiling. “Wanna go grab a drink?”

“Sure,” she nods. He takes off in the direction of the Third Rail. They pass through the entrance and head down the stairs, nodding to Ham as they pass. As they head down the stairs Madalyn says to MacCready, “You might want to order for us. Whitechapel Charlie and I got off to a bad start and ever since he spends ten minutes ignoring me before throwing my drink at me.”

MacCready gives her a bemused smile, “Why doesn't that surprise me? Yeah I'll order. Grab a table.”

She nods and finds an empty table, sitting in the chair with a sigh. Her muscles protest loudly as she tries to relax, so used to being used and abused the past few days. After a few minutes MacCready joins her at the table, two bottles in hand. He hands her one and she thanks him. Magnolia sings in the background as they sit and drink, occasionally having small talk. MacCready continuously goes to get them more as they pass the night away consuming alcohol. 

Madalyn checks her Pip-Boy and her eyes widen in surprise, “Whoa! Itss three in the… in the morning.” She hiccups and squints at her companion. 

“’m tired,” he mumbles, swaying in his seat.

Her eyes widen as she regards him, “Arree you gonna be able t’walk t’the hotel?”

“Me?” he asks, offended. “Yo’re the one who can't walk straight when int… intox… drunk.”

“Pfft,” she waves a hand at him. “Yusss I can. Watch me.”

She quickly rises from her chair and MacCready’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. He watches with wide eyes as she stumbles over to the stairs and lands heavily against the wall. Using it for support, she slowly ascends the stairs. After a moment she hears his chair scrape against the floor as he rises and follows. 

At one point her foot catches on a stair and she falls forward. Her, somehow still, quick reflexes save her by her hands shooting out in front of her and she catches herself before she face-plants. She hears him stumble up the stairs behind her and he asks, “You okay?”

“’m kay,” she tells him and begins crawling up the stairs. 

They reach the top and she struggles to right herself. She feels one of his hands grab her left shoulder and the other grab onto her left arm and he pulls her up. She grumbles something incoherent but doesn't fight him as he leads her outside. Ham chuckles at them as they pass, but doesn't move from his post. 

They step outside and the fresh air hits her hard. Madalyn heaves and tears herself from MacCready, turning and bending over the ground. She hears him make a disgusted noise and she fights off the urge to punch him as she empties her stomach. 

When it stops she remains keeled over, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. “Good?” MacCready asks. She nods and he grabs her once more, heading towards the Hotel Rexford. 

Once inside they stumble to the counter and Clair frowns at them. “Need rooms?”

“Two please,” Madalyn says. 

“Twenty caps.”

Madalyn reaches into her bag and after searching for far too long grasps onto her caps pouch. Eventually she gets out the right amount and hands them over. They are directed to the second floor and together they stumble up more stairs towards their rooms. 

They stop at the door to her room first and Madalyn leans against the wall beside her door, breathing heavily. “You gonna survive the night?” MacCready asks her. 

She nods and looks into his eyes, suddenly realizing how close he is standing to her. She stares at the blue eyes, suddenly transfixed. He stares back wordlessly, his expression blank. Madalyn feels a tug within her, a sudden urge to close the gap between them. Instinctively she starts moving forward and he doesn't move. 

Suddenly her eyes widen and she jerks herself back onto the wall. He doesn't flinch, but blinks a few times and takes a step backwards. Madalyn reaches for her door handle and looks away, mumbling a goodnight and opening the door. She hears him reply in kind and she shuts it quickly. She leans against the closed door and stares into the empty room, her heart racing and stomach churning. After a moment she says into the empty room, “Shit.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have stuck to basically canon the entire time and followed game quests. Here is where I diverge for plot purposes. So this "quest" that they're about to go on is _not_ from the game.

Bright light burns through MacCready's eyelids and his head throbs in protest. He groans and turns over in the bed, fighting the need to wake up and take a leak. Eventually his body wins and he crawls off the bed, searching for the nearest place to release his bladder. 

Once relieved he finds his way back into the bed and he falls onto it with a sigh. He brings a hand to his head and pushes on his temples, trying to relieve the pressure building. He tries to bring up memories from the night before and comes up with bare flashes. He remembers drinking… _a lot_ … and them leaving the bar. He remembers them getting into the hotel and getting rooms. Then he remembers stumbling into his room, tearing off his clothes and falling onto the bed. His brows furrow as he stares at the ceiling above him through hazed eyes. He knows he's missing something, but cannot tell what. 

Eventually he gives up and puts all of his effort into putting his clothes back on. He grimaces as he lifts the blood stained duster off the floor. MacCready sighs a heavy sigh and slips the clothes on, parts of it coated and dried stiffly, having to crack it to get the parts to fit correctly. 

As he's tying his boots he hears a knock at the door. He pauses and fumbles to his feet, nearly falling into the wall as he reaches for the door handle. He yanks it open and, unsurprisingly, finds Madalyn on the other side. “Mornin’,” he mumbles to her, turning and moving back onto his bed. He resumes focus on his shoe laces and she steps into the room, shutting the door. 

“You look great,” she tells him. “Sleep well?” she asks and leans against the wall, crossing her arms and watching his slow progress. 

“You're hilarious,” MacCready replies. “For your information I slept like a baby. It was when I woke up that was the issue.”

“Hungover?” she asks him, pouting mockingly.

“You're telling me you're not in any pain?” he asks her with disbelief. 

She shrugs, “Nowhere near as bad as the last time. Think you can drag yourself up out of here, or do I need to bring breakfast to you?”

MacCready sighs and rolls his shoulders, prepping his body to try and stand once more. “I think I can manage.”

She snickers as she watches him come to his feet successfully and without emptying the contents of his stomach. He smiles triumphantly and opens the door, gesturing for her to leave first. She passes him, still smirking, but doesn’t comment as she leads the way down and out of the hotel. They head for the Third Rail, despite his instincts yelling at him as his mind subconsciously links the bar to the pain in his gut. When they enter the building MacCready notices Ham back at his post and MacCready fights the urge to avoid the ghoul’s gaze in shame. 

“Hey, Ham,” Madalyn greets him. 

“Well look who survived the night,” Ham says with a grin. 

“Barely,” MacCready mumbles and the ghoul laughs but doesn’t comment more as they pass him and make their way down the stairs. Madalyn sits at the same table from the night before and MacCready heads for the counter. Whitechapel Charlie floats on the other side, polishing a glass delicately in his large claws. He ignores MacCready for a moment before moving to be in front of him. 

“MacCready!” the Handy Man exclaims. “Back again to drown yourself in liquor? What will it be?”

“Actually, Whitey, just want some food,” MacCready tells him. 

“Oh, fine then. Something for the hangover?”

“Yeah, Charlie, that’d be great. Make it double,” MacCready smiles. He watches the robot turn and go to gather the food. MacCready turns and leans his elbow on the counter, scanning over the room. He sees Magnolia standing in the corner, prepping for a set. Only two other patrons sit at the tables, it being early in the day and all. Madalyn sits at the table in the corner, holding her Pip-Boy up to her face, illuminating her frowning expression in green. MacCready frowns at her expression, concern growing for whatever is causing her distress. 

“Twenty caps, MacCready,” Charlie says from behind him. MacCready avoids visibly jumping in surprise and turns back to the counter. He scowls and reaches into his duster, fishing out the caps and counting them out for the robot. 

“Robbing me blind, Charlie,” he says as he hands over twenty. 

“Pleasure as always,” Charlie responds and drops two plates onto the counter. MacCready grabs them and heads over towards Madalyn. She still sits staring intently at her Pip-Boy and doesn’t look up as he approaches. 

He sets down the plate in front of her and Madalyn finally looks away from her arm. She stares at the plate and her frown deepens. “Another hangover cure?”

“Charlie’s best,” he tells her. 

Madalyn lets out a small groan but takes a bite. MacCready takes his own and tries not to laugh as he watches her battle her body in not letting the food go down. Eventually she wins and glares at him. “How are you able to eat that shit so easily?”

“Believe me that this is nowhere near the worst thing I’ve had to eat,” he tells her. 

“Really?” she asks incredulously. 

“Really, really.”

She frowns at him but takes one more bite, the second one going down much easier. He finishes his quickly and tries to not stare as she works on getting the food down. She glances at her Pip-Boy more than once and he fights off the strong urge to ask. Once she is done he has decided on a small tactic in the hopes of figuring it out. “So what’s the plan now, boss?”

“The plan was to go and check out the area Finch Farm had mentioned and then take care of the raiders for the Bluff,” she says. 

“Was?” he asks, catching her careful use of the word. 

“I was listening to Radio Freedom and they set out an alert. Doesn’t say exactly what, just that they need me at the Castle. I kept listening to see if it changed but the message was the same each time,” she frowns. “Here, listen,” she says and holds her arm out towards him. 

MacCready leans forward, having to get close to hear the Pip-Boy’s music over the regular music that plays in the Third Rail. Violins meet his ears and he holds back a sigh of annoyance at the constant noise, _you would think they would change it up every once in a while_. He waits impatiently for the song to end and tries not to show his happiness when the music finally pauses. 

“You’re listening to Radio Freedom. Alert, alert. This message is for the General. Your presence is needed at the Castle immediately. To any minutemen: if you come across the General, please alert her to the message. Thank you.” After another second of silence, the same song starts up once more. 

He pulls away and regards the Pip-Boy wearily. “Strange,” he drawls finally. 

“My thoughts exactly,” she says. She takes a deep breath and thinks quietly for a moment. Eventually she says, “I’m going to go, obviously. I don’t think it’s like with Ronnie Shaw when she high-jacked the station to get me there just because she wanted to meet me. From what I can tell it’s the same message on a loop in between songs, not him saying it himself every time. Could mean a few things.”

“So how do you wanna go about this. Should we bring back-up?” MacCready asks. 

She shakes her head, “No. It could honestly be nothing and I don’t want to waste anyone else’s time.”

“But it could be something; an ambush, maybe,” he counters. 

“I know,” she says and bites her lip. “That’s the hard part. I’m thinking maybe have you hide out in one of the buildings within sight and watch from afar just in case. If it’s an ambush, you can either snipe it out or go and get help. If it’s nothing, I can signal you and we just acted paranoid.”

“Could work,” he shrugs. “I just wish we could easily get someone from Sanctuary so it’s not just me you’re relying on for back-up.”

“Well then it’s your lucky day, then, Mac the Wack,” a familiar voice says from behind him. “What a coincidence that I just happen to be in the neighborhood and overhear you guys need some help. I’m happy to provide my service, Mads,” Deacon says as he slides a nearby chair across the concrete and to their table. 

MacCready stares blank-faced at the now bald Deacon dressed in dirty, torn clothes while still wearing sunglasses. Madalyn frowns at him and shakes her head. “Just happen to be in the neighborhood?” she asks. Deacon grins at her and she leans her elbows on top of the table, linking her hands and resting her chin on top of them. “How long have you been tailing us?”

Deacon frowns at stares at her blankly for a moment, considering. “Since this morning?” he asks. 

“Since Sanctuary I bet,” MacCready chimes in. Deacon doesn’t respond and MacCready scoffs, “Do you always follow her when she’s out without you?”

“No, actually,” Deacon snaps back. “I only follow her after she has a sudden panic attack and doesn’t talk to anyone about it, and then goes off on a random mission for an inconsiderate mercenary.”

MacCready stares into the sunglasses with wide-eyes and then looks at Madalyn. She sits stone-faced and doesn’t look at either of them, leaned back in her chair and hands clenched tightly at her thighs. She takes a deep breath and then looks at Deacon, “That was none of your business, and definitely not for you to share.”

MacCready’s jaw tightens in anger and he looks back to Deacon, ready to explode. He is surprised when he sees the other man shrunken onto himself and looking down at his lap, his mouth turned down in a frown. “I’m sorry, Madalyn. I didn’t mean to let it slip and-“

“No,” she interrupts him. “Just drop it.” She takes another deep breath and then stands, “I need some time alone.” She looks at MacCready. “Both of you meet me at the gate in an hour,” she orders and then turns on her heel towards the stairs. Both men watch as she ascends and disappears from sight. 

After a moment passes MacCready looks at Deacon sharply. Instead of saying the first thing that comes to mind, he decides on information first. “What do you mean she had a panic attack?”

“Look man I already betrayed her trust and I don’t want to…” he stops when he looks at takes in the expression on his face. MacCready doesn’t know exactly what the other man sees, but apparently it made him change his mind. Deacon sighs, “Alright. Just… maybe don’t tell her I told you everything. But the other day? When you ran that rando, crappy errand for Preston? She suddenly shut all the doors and windows to her house and locked everyone out. The old man kept everyone else from going in but I, simply put, snuck inside. Found her in her room and looking like a mess. She brushed me off but I’ve seen people have attacks before, and from what I heard before she opened the door and saw when she did told me more than enough.”

MacCready’s hands fist on the table and he takes a deep, calming breath. Deacon stares at him as he waits for a response. MacCready asks, “Did she say anything to anyone else? Valentine?”

Deacon shakes his head, “No. Didn’t really have time to. After that people gave her distance and then you know what happened after you got back. That’s why I was worried and followed when you guys left.”

“Worried?” MacCready scoffs. “You did a great job of showing her you care.”

“Me?” Deacon bites back. “You’re the one who dragged her in a den of ghouls doing god-knows-what inside that medical facility. You’re her **companion** , you’re supposed to be taking care of her.”

A flash of red crosses MacCready’s vision and he bites the inside of his cheek hard. “You’re not in the place to be making assumptions here, man. You have no idea what you’re talking about. And I know I’m supposed to be taking care of her, but I think I have news for you. She doesn’t need me. She doesn’t need any of us. She can take care of her goddamn self. So I think it’s time you take your head out of your ass and listen to her when she tells you it’s **none of your business**.”

He stands from the table and glares down at the other man. “I’m going to leave before this goes in the direction neither of us want. If you truly care about her like you say you do, then get your shit together and meet us where she said to. I don’t know what crawled up your ass but you better get it out before then.” MacCready turns and walks away before Deacon can respond. He takes deep, even breaths to try to calm himself as he heads up the steps and towards the exit.

“Sorry, Duncan,” he mumbles to himself. “I couldn’t help it. I’m sure you understand, he deserved it.”

Once he steps out onto the street he heaved a big sigh and makes back towards the Hotel Rexford. He heads inside and up to the second floor. He stops outside of her door and frowns at it, wanting to check on her. But he knows if he did, he would only be spurned and turned away. So he turns and opens his door and enters the room. 

MacCready grabs his things and double checks everything is in his pack where he had hidden it before they left. Once assured he leaves the room and tries to avoid looking at Madalyn’s door as he passes. He leaves the Hotel quickly and makes towards the front gate. 

Instead of standing by the gate he decides to go talk to Daisy. When he enters the shop she smiles when she sees him. “Hey there MacCready,” she greets. 

“Hiya Daisy,” MacCready smiles, the familiar and comforting face of the old ghoul helping to calm his nerves. He and Daisy had known each other a long time, and she’s one of the few he can say he trusts. “I know it’s only been a day, but I’m checking in. We’re about to skip town and I don’t know when we’ll be through again.”

“It left on the caravan this morning. Should arrive within the week. I got my best people on it, MacCready, I know they’ll do whatever it takes to get that stuff to Duncan,” she tells him assuringly. 

“Thanks Daisy,” he says with a breath, relief filling him. 

“So how’d that poor, pretty lady get stuck with you following her around the place? I’ve been meaning to ask,” she smirks, bracing herself against the counter. 

“Poor is right,” MacCready agrees, “I don’t know how she puts up with me. But she hired me out of the Third Rail a few months ago and it’s become more of a… long-term arrangement. For now at least.”

“That’s good, MacCready. I think it’s good for you too. Ended up for the better with her helping you get that medicine for your son. Just listen to me when I say you better not screw the pooch with this one. Otherwise you’ll regret it, I tell ya,” Daisy jabs a finger at him for emphasis and MacCready laughs. 

“Not if I have my say. But since you said something, I’ll make sure I don’t. I appreciate you, Daisy.” She grins at him and he steps out of the shop. A drop of water falls from the sky and he holds back an irritated sigh, moving over to be next to the front gate. MacCready glances around and spots no sign of the others. He moves his back against the wall of the building next to the gate and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette. After a moments struggle he lights the end and settles in to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel it's necessary for me to say that I absolutely have **nothing** against Deacon. I actually love him (not as much as MacCready though...). What happened just now is purely for drama and it did not make me happy to do it to him, but based upon what has happened and the way I have written him, it fit. It also needed to be somebody, and he was the most logical person to have "followed" them, etc. He will not be treated this way for long I can assure you!


	15. Chapter 15

Madalyn slams the door to her room shut behind her, not mindful of the old and rusty hinges. She sits down in the chair and bends over so her head hovers between her knees. She feels the same panic from before trying to grip her mind but she fights it off. “No,” she growls to herself. “Not again.”

After taking deep, even breathes her hands stop their shaking. She sits straight in her chair and glares at the wall across from her, trying to keep her mind blank. She sits like that for an indeterminate amount of time, trying to wait patiently until she knows her emotions are in check. Eventually her body relaxes and she takes in one final deep breath and stands. 

She busies herself with the task of cleaning the room and gathering her things. Because she was only in there to sleep the night before there wasn’t much of a mess to clean up. She grabs her pack from her hiding place then checks and organizes the contents. After ensuring that everything is in its proper place, as always, she shoulders the pack and makes for the door. Before she opens it she checks the Pip-Boy and sees over a half an hour had passed between when she had left the bar and now. Somehow she wasn’t surprised. 

She finds herself checking each hallway before she moves on to the next. Not that she wants to avoid her companions, but a part of her still isn’t ready to talk to them yet. When she makes it out of the building and onto the street she keeps her head down as she moves towards the front of the settlement, little drops of rain falling onto her head. When she nears the small plaza at the gate she doesn’t looks around but rather turns sharply and enters the shop and comes face to face with KL-E-0. 

“Well, hello,” she greets Madalyn. 

“Hey, K,” Madalyn smiles. 

“My new designation is KL- “

“I know,” Madalyn interrupts. She smiles at the woman/merchant/robot. “I was checking in on that chest piece you had. Seeing if you sold it or if it was still in your inventory.”

“Yes, the Devastator’s armor is still here. It will cost you 20,000 caps,” she tells Madalyn. 

“I figured the price didn’t change,” Madalyn sighs. “Unfortunately I don’t have that kind of money yet. I’m saving up for it, KL-E-0. One day.”

“I do not hold product for customers. If it remains in my inventory, it is for sale.”

“I know,” Madalyn holds back a frustrated noise. “Thanks, K. I’ll see you around.” She turns and leaves the shop as KL-E-0 reminds her that ‘K’ is not her designation. Madalyn steps onto the street and into stronger droplets of rain, and she looks up at the darkened sky. She frowns at it but continues towards the front gate, finally looking at her destination. 

The first thing her eyes go to is the sight of MacCready leaning against the wall by the gate. He stands hunched over and with his arms crossed, head bent down. His cap covers her view of his eyes but she can feel his attention on her like a warm presence. On the other side of the gate stand Deacon, looking around lazily but not facing her direction. He had changed into a leather coat and dark pants, his black-haired wig stuck tightly to his head. When she nears, he turns at the sound of her footsteps and his lips curl in a smile. 

“Hey General, ready to head out?” he asks, stressing the title in an odd fashion. Madalyn cannot tell immediately if it’s sarcasm or just his way of stressing that she is in control. 

She nods and glances at MacCready, “Mac, you ready?”

“Born ready,” he tells her and pushes off of the wall. He grabs his pack that was by his feet and straps it onto his body, grabbing his rifle at the same time. 

Madalyn takes the lead and opens the door out of Goodneighbor. When the door shuts behind them an eerie silence floods her ears and she pulls her gun to the ready position. They start down the street, trajectory to the South, and travel in silence. 

Madalyn is somewhat grateful that their path takes them through unfriendly territory. She thinks ti’s good distraction from the strange tension that is brewing between her and the two companions. With Deacon, she is more mad and hurt at his behavior and what he had said to MacCready. With MacCready, she feels a strange bit of shame flooded over with worry and protectiveness. If she has wanted him to know, she would’ve told him. Deacon had no right to say what he did. But what worried her was MacCready’s reaction. 

She can tell he’s angry with her. After everything that had happened, she still kept something from him. And he had placed a lot of trust in her and opened himself up. She pissed all over that by not telling him of her… episode… and by not saying what she had meant to that night. Instead she let work take over and distract her. She will even admit she had behaved somewhat recklessly, especially with the Deathclaw outside of Med-Tek. 

That’s what this world has done to her. She takes risks for others and focuses solely on each mission. She does it to distract herself from her real problems. If she was alone, she would have physically kicked herself just then. She settles for doing it mentally as she chastises herself for going through self-realizations as they sneak past a Gunner outpost in the building across the street. 

Unfortunately, at that moment she steps on a tripwire and sets off a trap. Madalyn curses but moves into action, shooting at the outpost as her companions do the same. As they fight, she forces her mind into submission and puts the thoughts she had just had into a lockbox to be evaluated later. 

The fight is quick and neither of them get severely injured. MacCready had a bullet graze his arm and Deacon scratched his leg. Madalyn somehow got away clean. 

They quickly loot and regroup in the street, continuing along their set path. Madalyn focuses her ears on listening to the sounds of the broken city as they move further south and towards the Castle. Soon she hears the sound of water hitting shore and she knows they are close. They round the corner of a building and the water greets their sight. 

They cross the road to stand in the grass beside the little alcove of water cutting into the city. To their right they see the houses lining the waters edge and further down sits the Castle. Madalyn takes a deep breath and then leads the entourage towards the right, keeping down instinctively with the lack of good cover. 

They follow the buildings towards the Castle, keeping low and under shadow to avoid grabbing attention of the streets inhabitants. When they near the Castle they turn and start South once more, not approaching the large stone walls first. They continue on along the streets until they reach the largest building in sight. MacCready enters first, rifle ready, and leads them inside. 

They make their way to the top floor without incident. The first room they find is full of rubble that has no room for them to enter. The second has a large hole in the floor. The final room they reach becomes a curiosity when they try the handle and find it locked. Madalyn puts her ear to the door to try and listen for inhabitants. 

Silence meets her ears and she looks at her companions, shrugging and shaking her head. She kneels down before the lock and pulls hairpins from her pack, immediately getting to work on the fairly good lock. A few minutes pass before she both hears and feels the tumblers slide into their rightful place. “Got it,” she whispers triumphantly and turns the handle.

Madalyn will admit she is impressed with what greets them on the other side. The room sits nearly intact, a couch and bed the largest furniture they see. Multiple bookshelves with burnt or torn books align the walls with candles sitting on top, all of them burned nearly all the way through. Chests sit in a corner and Madalyn glances at MacCready, seeing his eyes on them as well. She glances at the couch where a lone skeleton sits, the clothes on it torn and burned. 

“Looks like someone hunkered down here for a long time,” Deacon mutters. MacCready doesn’t reply but strides towards the boarded up window on the wall opposite them. He pulls at the panels and tears one off before Deacon moves to help him. 

After the window is clear MacCready murmurs a ‘thanks’ before looking outside. He opens the window and rests his rifle on the sill, looking through the scope. “Not the ideal view, boss, but should be enough where I can see if anything goes wrong.”

“Let me see,” she tells him and he moves slightly out of the way, holding the rifle in position for her. She slides in front of him and tries not to feel the warmth of his body on her back as she peers through the scope. 

She has to adjust it slightly before she sees the Castle. She can see through the large hole in the side wall, guard posts planted just outside and in the grass in the effort to catch anyone who tries to take advantage of the fortresses weakness. She can see the artillery station on the top of the walls. She notices someone standing at it but not who it is or what exactly they are doing aside from standing there. She looks back through the hole and past it, able to see the shapes of people as they move throughout the Castle. But she cannot see any faces. 

Madalyn withdraws from the scope and hands the gun back to MacCready, stepping away from him and the window. “I’ll enter from this side so that you can see me the entire time. I’ll try to keep them in view when they talk to me, make sure I don’t get pulled out of sight.”

“Sounds good, boss,” MacCready nods. 

She brings the Pip-Boy up and turns on the radio. Radio Freedom plays and she expertly waits through the song for the message at the end. When the song stops she waits, heart beating rapidly. The same message from before plays and she tries not to show her concern on her face. Her instincts scream at her that something is wrong about the message and her mind agrees. She turns off the radio and glances at both of her companions, her face resigned. 

“Be careful out there,” Deacon tells her, his expression blank and she smiles lightly at him. 

Madalyn looks to MacCready and he simply stares at her with an expression mirroring her own. He nods and she nods back, neither of them feeling more needs to be said at that moment. They both know the plan. 

Without saying anything else she turns to the door and leaves the room, shoulders set. She makes for the stairs and starts her decent down, running scenarios through her head. As she nears the bottom she hears footsteps quickly coming down from above. Instinctively she grabs her gun and turns to face the culprit. 

MacCready lands beside her, breath slightly quickened, and he stares at her intently. “What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. And it’s something I want to say before you go,” he says. The unsaid ‘just in case’ lingers in the air, but neither of them acknowledge it. 

“Okay,” she nods, relaxing her stiff posture from his sudden appearance. 

“After helping me get Duncan's cure from Med-Tek I figure I owe you for all that you did for me… and I always repay my debts. I… want you to have this.” He reaches into his duster and grips something tightly in his hand. He holds it out to Madalyn and she takes it, eyeing it curiously. She holds a worn, wooden carved figure of a soldier. She can tell from his face it is important to him and she tries not to react aside from looking at him with curiosity. “I know a carved toy soldier is a strange reward for risking your life, but this ones special. It means a lot to me,” he tells her. 

She smiles at him, her intuition proved correct. “If it's special to you, then it's a thoughtful gift. Thank you.”

His face looks almost relieved at her response. He nods and gives her a small smile, “You're welcome. Just be sure you don't lose it. My wife Lucy gave this to me right after we met. I uh… I told her I was a soldier and she made it for me. Never could bring myself to tell her the truth… that I was just a hired killer. The soldier story was just the best thing I could come up with. I didn't want to lose her because of what I was.”

Madalyn freezes and looks back down at the sculpture in her hand. “Are… are you sure? It seems like it’s too important to give to me. Don’t you think she would care?” 

MacCready shakes his head, eyes turning sad. “She died a few years back. We made the mistake of holing up in a metro station one night. We didn't know the place was infested with ferals. They were on her before I was able to fire a shot. Ripped her apart right in front of me. There was nothing I could do. Took everything I had to escape with Duncan in my arms.” He takes a deep breath and looks to the side, face turning solemn. “Maybe it would have been better if we’d died there with her.”

Madalyn shakes her head back at him. “No. You did the right thing. I’m sorry to hear about that, but Duncan is lucky to have a you, I know that much.”

He smiles lightly at her, seeming unconvinced of her statement. “Maybe. I’m not so sure.” He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Damn, I miss Lucy. No matter how bad things got, she was always there with a shoulder to lean on. It gave me the courage I needed to press ahead, to never give up. When she died, I thought that feeling was gone forever.” He pauses and looks at her with a strange look. “Then I met you. You've got the worlds problems on your back and there you were helping me with mine, lending me your shoulder like Lucy did. I just want you to know how much your friendship means to me.”

Madalyn smiles at him. “MacCready, don’t even get me started on what you’ve done for me. And you don’t really need to thank me.” She considers her next words, knowing the urgent issue awaiting her outside the building. “Listen, Mac, you don’t need to worry about me. Knowing you have my back is more than enough assurance for when I go into situations.” She tucks the soldier in between her chest piece and the shirt underneath, feeling it dig into her skin. “Thank you for giving that to me, and telling me everything you have. I hope you know how much your trust means to me.”

She turns to leave and he reaches out a hand and stops her, “Madalyn. Please be careful. If it looks like more than we can handle, no shame in running. Then we can regroup and show these bastards they messed with the wrong people.”

She smiles at him assuringly. “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

He nods and lets her go. She walks down the last flight of stairs and out the door, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. When she steps outside she pauses and takes a deep breath, trying to clear her emotions trying to erupt after everything he had just told her. She feels the toy soldier digging into her skin and she focuses on that pain as she heads in the direction of the Castle. 

When she nears she checks her gun strapped to her side, ensuring its full of ammo and ready to grab easily. She approaches from the west, straight for the large gap in the fortress. She watches for movement, curiosity piqued at the lack of guards at the posts. She climbs over the rubble and peers around, hand going to grab onto her gun. 

“General!” a voice calls. Madalyn turns to the left and watches the person approach. She stares at them, their face and voice vaguely familiar to her. She chastises herself for not making an effort to remember at least the name and face of every single minuteman. 

“That’s me,” she replies dryly. “Where is everyone?” she asks, gesturing vaguely to the empty Castle around them. 

“Inside, holding a conference. There’s a lot that’s happened since you were last here. They’re gonna be so glad you finally arrived; we really need your help,” he smiles charismatically at her. 

She releases her tension slightly, studying him closely. His face is trusting, friendly. But she cannot remember where she had seen him before. “Why don’t you go grab Ronnie for me so that I can talk to them," she suggests. 

“Ronnie?” he asks. He pauses for a beat, considering his options it seems. A smile alights his face. “He’s inside with the others. I can take you to him.”

Madalyn smiles kindly at him, “Thanks. But I’m not sure you get who I’m talking about. Ronnie Shaw, skinny old lady? Attitude that makes you wanna strangle something?” she asks sarcastically. She takes a step back and grabs her gun out of its holster. 

He raises his hands defensively. “Now wait, wait. No need for that, General. I just got my Ronnie’s confused. We had a new recruit come in this past week named Ron that we call Ronnie sometimes. That’s all.”

“Enough, Freddie,” a deep voice says from Madalyn’s right, the demand clear. “You already fucked up. Get outta here.”

Madalyn turns her gaze, gun still on ‘Freddie’, and sees a man stepping out from inside the Castle. He holds a pistol loosely in his hands, face mature and decked in expensive gear. Four men flank his sides, all holding weapons directly hotly at Madalyn. “Who are you?” she asks. 

“Call me Hank,” he says, smiling sweetly. “This wasn’t exactly how I wanted introductions to go, ma’am. But I had to lure you to me somehow. Rumor has it you are dangerous and I had to use precautions.”

“How thoughtful,” she murmurs. She keeps her gun tight in her hands and directed at Freddie, who still holds his hands up and stares at her with fear. 

“Now I think you can tell the odds are not in your favor here. Best you drop the gun,” Hank tells her. 

Madalyn watches his progress, waiting for him to come into the gap of the wall. He stands just on the precipice, tantalizingly close. “I don’t think so,” Madalyn shakes her head. “I think I’m good right here.”

Hank sighs and one of his goons takes another step towards her. Madalyn smirks and hears the whistle of a bullet as it flies in their vicinity and then the squelch of flesh as it meets its target.


	16. Chapter 16

MacCready walks back into the room they had chosen, Deacon lounging against one of the walls. He looks up when MacCready enters and asks, “So did you profess your undying love for her?”

“Shut it,” MacCready replies. He moves to the window and grabs the rifle, kneeling on the ground and bringing his eye to the scope. 

He finds Madalyn as she approaches the Castle and he traces her progress. When she nears he pans the rest of the fortress, nerves on end when he notices no guards or other minutemen within sight. He moves the focus back on her as she slowly climbs over the rubble and stops at the edge of the Castle. 

He feels Deacon standing behind him, breathing down his neck as he tries to see. MacCready holds back his temper and grabs his binoculars from his belt, wordlessly handing them over to the other man. Deacon murmurs a thanks in his ear and both return to watching the scene outside the window. 

MacCready’s skin itches as he watches her speak to the person who approached her. He focuses on her body language, trying to read her posture to determine the path of their conversation. When she reaches back and pulls out her gun, MacCready tenses and his finger on the trigger twitches. He hears Deacon take a deep breath behind him and MacCready doesn’t blink as he continues to watch. 

Her head turns to the right as she continues to aim at the first person and MacCready watches her talk to others, her body tense. MacCready aims slightly to the right, waiting for movement to appear in his scope. 

First he sees the head of a rifle, then slowly the hand and arms holding it. MacCready takes a deep breath as he watches the man appear finally past the edge of the stone and into his sight. He quickly sees the man aiming and advancing towards Madalyn and he doesn’t think. Before he registers his own movements his hands guide the rifle to be aimed at the man’s head and squeezes the trigger. 

The man drops and MacCready already looks for a next target. He hears Deacon move behind him and MacCready tells him, “Run. I’ll do what I can from here until you get there.”

He doesn’t listen for a reply as he watches the Castle through his scope. Madalyn had already started shooting fire, taking down the man she had first aimed at. He watches her step backwards and try to take cover behind one of the guard posts as she fires at whoever he cannot see. MacCready curses at his vantage point, wishing there had been another option. He stays focused on her targets while continuing to pay attention to the areas around her, afraid she may be flanked by others. 

MacCready sees a figure appear atop the Castle and try to sneak towards her. He quickly aims and shoots, hitting the figure in the shoulder. They drop and hold onto their wound yet persist in trying to get towards her. MacCready frowns and shoots again, finally hitting them fatally. 

He quickly glances down and sees Deacon leaving the building and running towards the Castle. He scans back towards the building and freezes when he sees Madalyn hunched over and trying to back away from the Castle. A group of men finally made appearance and the one in the center advances on her the quickest, others looking around and ready to fight. The leader approaches her and kicks her gun away, kneeling down and grabbing her arm roughly. MacCready, hands shaking slightly, takes a shot and hits the man in the leg. 

One of the men finally sees MacCready and they all start shooting in his direction. Ignoring the danger MacCready tries to aim for the leader and take another shot. His heart stops when he sees Madalyn roughly pulled up and blocking his view of the leader. He pulls her backwards as they make for the safety behind the Castle walls. MacCready sees her glance in his direction and she shakes her head quickly, almost like a twitch, but he receives the message. 

“No!” MacCready yells and shoves away from the window. He bolts out of the room and down the stairs as fast as he can. He makes it to ground level in seconds and he bursts out the door and sprints towards the Castle. 

As he runs he sees more men gathered outside, all armed and waiting for an attack. He looks around for Deacon and curses the man when he sees no sign of him. One of the men spots MacCready as he runs straight towards them and they start shooting. He shoulders his rifle and pulls his .44 from his side and shoots as much as he can as he runs. One of them falls but the others remain untouched as they advance towards him. 

When MacCready nears one of the abandoned cars he yells out as his leg is grabbed and he falls face-first into the ground. His head jars at he impact and he barely registers a voice yelling and his body being dragged behind the car, away from the torrent of bullets. His grip on his gun tightens as he prepares to fight his attacker before a familiar voice finally drifts through his mind. 

“Damnit, stop fighting me! We need to get out of here now!” Deacon yells at him. 

MacCready shakes his head to clear it and glares at Deacon. “What? Are you out of your freaking mind? We need to go get Madalyn! Why are you hiding?”

“Did you not see how many men they have? The two of us aren’t going to be able to do anything other than get ourselves killed if we try and attack them now. We need to get out of here man, need to go get some help,” Deacon says as he continues to try and pull MacCready away from the Castle and men who are, still, shooting at them. 

“I’m not leaving her,” MacCready says sternly. 

Deacon pauses and sighs, looking at MacCready with a frown. “Listen man, as much as I would love to leave you to your suicide mission, I can’t. She would never forgive me if I let you. So I need you to really listen when I say we **cannot** do this right now. The two of us are not gonna be able to take on thirty men on our own with the supplies we have. Not. Gonna. Happen.”

MacCready spares a glance over the car and sees the Castle covered with mercs shooting at their position. He glances over towards where he last saw Madalyn and his fist clenches tightly. He glares at Deacon, expecting to see a smug look on his face. Deacon just stares with a blank expression as he waits for MacCready, not even flinching as the bullets pass by. 

MacCready reaches into his pack and pulls out two grenades. He wordlessly hands one to Deacon. They both remove the pins and throw them over the car, as close to the Castle as they can get. When they hear the loud boom of the grenades both men bolt from their cover and towards the buildings near the water, away from the Castle. 

They run for a while. MacCready glances behind them every now and then but sees no pursuers. Neither he nor Deacon speak, however, as they run northwest towards Sanctuary. When they finally tire enough they pause in the cover of a building and catch their breath as best they can. MacCready glances around and sees them close in proximity to Hardware Town. 

As they prepare to start again the sounds of fighting reach them and both men hold their guns ready. They slowly head back onto the streets and listen to the continued shots of gunfire and laser fire. They rounds a building and see in the distance a group of hulky soldiers in power armor shooting at a building. MacCready glances at the building and sees meat bags and bodies hanging on the outside. Super mutants. 

MacCready glances at Deacon, “I have an idea.”

He moves closer and aims his rifle at the building. He starts shooting at the large green forms in the windows and does his best to do as much damage as possible. 

“Mac!” he hears and he turns to see a mutant hound charging at him from the side. MacCready curses and tries to grab his pistol but stops when the hound falls over, blood pouring from a wound in its side. He glances and sees Deacon reloading his gun. 

“Thanks,” MacCready says. Deacon nods and both return to shooting at all of the super mutants in sight. 

Moments pass and eventually the last one falls. MacCready takes a deep, calming breath of relief and then turns towards the soldiers. One approaches him, armor clanking loudly and shaking his bones. “Citizen. You have interfered in official Brotherhood business. State your intentions,” the staticky, female voice orders through her helmet. 

MacCready smirks up at the figure, “Pretty sure I helped save your assess. But since you asked so nicely. Names MacCready. I have business with your Paladin and need you to radio him and tell him to get his ass over here.”

“Paladin… Danse?” she asks.

“Yeah, that one.” MacCready fights off the urge to give her more lip, not wanting to antagonize the person he wants help from too much. 

He hears a click from her armor and the helmet looks away from him. “Paladin Danse, come in.”

MacCready waits ever so impatiently as she continues to try to reach Danse over radio. Finally he hears her give their coordinates when, he assumes, she reaches the Paladin. Afterwards she turns back to him. “He will be here shortly. It would be best if you stayed out of our way until he arrives.”

“Would be my pleasure,” MacCready says with a sarcastic smile. He turns and walks over to where Deacon waits by one of the buildings, standing on one of the small porches. 

“Well?” Deacon asks him. 

“Danse is on his way,” MacCready says. He leans against the building with a sigh and pulls out a cigarette. Deacon doesn’t comment and they both sit in silence as they wait. 

MacCready tries very hard not to think about her. About what they could be doing to her, what may have already happened. So many questions flood through his mind. Who were they? Why did they want her so bad? But yet she has made so many allies and with them so many enemies, they could be anybody. 

_No_ , he tells himself. _Cannot do anything about it right now. Focus._

In the distance the thrumming of a vertibird reaches their ears. MacCready looks towards the west and sees the black shape of the aircraft as it heads in their direction. Both men step into the street and watch it advance. It slows to a hover down the street, where the buildings are less clustered together. The hulking shape of power armor drops down from the craft and onto the ground with a loud bang, the concrete bending slightly with the force of the drop. “Way to make an entrance,” Deacon mutters beside him. MacCready scoffs in agreement and they both start towards the Paladin. 

“Citizens,” he greets them. “What is the meaning of this?” MacCready watches the helmet-covered-face as it looks around them. “Where is the Knight?”

“That’s why we asked for you, big guy,” MacCready says. “There’s a situation. We need you to take us to Sanctuary as fast as you can so we can gather everyone.”

“Not until you tell me, citizen. I won’t go around using Brotherhood resources without knowing why. It would encourage waste and we cannot have that.”

Deacon sighs, “Listen, man. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t serious. She obviously isn’t here with us for a reason. But we don’t have a whole lot of time to sit here and tell the same story we’re gonna have to tell at Sanctuary. So can you get us there or not? Otherwise, were wasting our time.”

Danse regards them quietly for a minute before saying curtly, “Fine.” He turns his back on them as he radios the vertibird above. The aircraft turns in the air and then slowly descends in front of them. Danse turns back to them, “Come with me, citizens. And don’t touch anything once on board.”

“Yes, sir,” MacCready grumbles under his breath. He hears the Paladin sigh as they all approach the craft. Danse stands aside so they can climb in ahead of him. First MacCready, then Deacon climbs on board. Danse clambers on and signals for the pilot to take off. MacCready feels his stomach lurch as the machine pushes off of the ground and into the air. 

“Ever been in something like this before?” Deacon yells into MacCready’s ear. MacCready shakes his head and Deacon gives a strained smile. “Me neither!”

MacCready takes a deep breath through his nose as he watches the world pass underneath of them. The darkening sky surrounds them, dusk passing by, and he glances in the direction of the fading sun. He can hear the pilot and Danse talking to each other as the craft moves northeast. First Cambridge and Lexington passes underneath. MacCready sees the Drive-In in the distance as they pass, then the familiar shapes of Concord. MacCready focuses on keeping his stomach calm as they slow down near Sanctuary and then descend onto the ground. 

Once clear, MacCready could not get off the vertibird fast enough. He stumbles to the ground and tries to get back into his feet. A large metal hand grabs onto the back of his collar and hauls him upright. “Citizen?” 

“Let me go,” MacCready snarls. Danse releases him and MacCready stumbles a few steps before standing upright. He glares at the Paladin and is ignored in return. He glances around and sees they were dropped off along the river, right next to the bridge. MacCready climbs the small rise and makes for the center of the settlement. 

He sees Preston walking away from one of the houses, headed straight for the small entourage. “MacCready? Where is the General?”

“We need to gather everyone. Now,” he tells the Minuteman. Preston looks like he’s going to argue but his eyes trail to Deacon and he sets his jaw. He nods and then makes for the siren nearby, setting it off. 

“Everyone please go to the recreation building! Emergency meeting! Everyone to the recreation building!” Preston calls out to the settlers. MacCready sees the people look around alarmed and hesitate to move. He tries to keep his expression calm as he heads over there himself, ignoring the curious looks from others. 

He and Deacon enter the building and walk over to one corner, hovering by one of the tall tables. “What I wouldn’t kill for a drink right now…” MacCready mumbles. Deacon snorts in agreement and they both watch as people slowly trickle in. 

Piper, Preston and Valentine take positions closest to them. Hancock and Cait hover in the back and the rest of the settlers fill out the space in between. Danse is the last one to enter, his bulk filling up the doorway to outside. MacCready and Deacon share a glance and Deacon gestures for MacCready to begin. 

He recounts the story, starting with when Madalyn first noticed the distress call on Radio Freedom. As he talks he sees Preston go stiff and eyes harden. Valentine shuffles on his feet and shakes his head at intervals. Piper stares wordlessly, her mouth slowly turning downwards into a frown. When MacCready finishes with them getting Danse to transport them to Sanctuary, the room sits silent and still. 

A few heartbeats pass before a person whispers in the quiet, “What are we going to do?”

“We’ll get her back,” Preston replies. He turns and faces the crowd. “Since everyone has been briefed, I want the minutemen to stay in this room. Anyone fit and willing to fight needs to remain as well. The rest of you can all go back to your regular assignments. We still have a settlement to run.”

A few grumble lightly in response but do as he says. They watch quietly as people leave the group and head outside, the bulk of the group remaining. Preston surveys them and then speaks again. “Ricky,” he says and a man steps forward. “You’ll stay behind and watch the settlement in our absence. You’ll need at least six people to help maintain guard, even with the turrets in place. So six of you need to volunteer now, or I will choose for you.”

Reluctantly six others step forward and stand beside Ricky. Preston nods, “Go ahead and go outside. I’ll speak with you guys when we’re done here.” They nod in assent and then leave the room. After that, MacCready does a quick headcount of their remaining force. Thirteen remain, including her regular companions. 

Preston glances at MacCready, “Alright, here’s our group. You have any idea on how you wanna do this?”

MacCready balks, “Me? What makes you think I have any idea?”

“You were there. You came here for help. How many men did you say they had again, close to thirty? What kind of artillery did they have?” Preston asks. 

MacCready runs a hand over his face and looks around the room at expectant faces. He glances at Deacon and sees the other man simply staring at him, not chiming in at all. He sighs, “Alright. I’ll run it over again and try to tell you anything I may have missed. But we can’t take too long. We have to get her back.”

“We will,” Preston says determinatively. MacCready sees the truth in his face and the others all nod in agreement. A small, relieved feeling blooms in his chest and he feels the first glimmer of hope that he’s had all day. 

“Okay, let’s do this.”


	17. Chapter 17

"Wakey, wakey,” a male voice calls. A smack resounds as a hand connects hard with Madalyn’s cheek, forcing her head hard to the left. She groans and fights to open her eyes, blinking in a bright light. 

“What?” she asks, dazed. Her vision is blurry but she can see two figures standing before the chair she is strapped to. “What… did you do to me?”

“Just gave you a few Chems, _General_ ,” the man laughs, his tone dripping with mockery. 

She scowls at him and blinks, trying hard to clear her vision. She takes a deep breath and feels a pressure on her chest between her body and the armor still strapped on. _The toy soldier_. MacCready. Deacon. “Shit,” she whispers. She glances up again and sees two of Hank’s goons standing before her. She tugs at the rope binding her hands together, trying to kick her feet bound to the chair legs, and continues to glare at them. 

“There she is,” the one closest to her says. The one who slapped her. “I think she’s back with us finally.” He glances at his silent companion, “Why don’t you go grab Hank and tell him the good news?”

The goon nods and leaves the room. Madalyn glances around and sees that they have her locked up in the kitchen inside the Castle, a bright spotlight brought in and faced directly at her. The idiot goon steps closer to her and leans down slightly. “You’re a nasty one, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised from all the stories they tell about you. But I thought they were just stories.”

“Well, you can find out,” Madalyn replies. She smiles a toothy smile, “Just untie me here and I can show you if any of those stories are true.”

He grins and brings his hand up, slapping the same cheek hard. “No, I don’t think so bitch. I think we’ll just show you that you aren’t invincible, how about that?”

“Enough!” Hank yells as he enters the room. He glares hard at the goon and a dark scowl covers his face. “You fucking idiot, who put you here? Get out before I kill you myself.”

The proclaimed idiot shoots Madalyn a dark look as he heads out of the room, avoiding looking at Hank. Once he’s gone Hank moves closer to Madalyn and let’s out a sigh. She sees him limping and notices the cloth wrapped around his thigh, a patch of it bloody. A bloom of satisfaction hits her as she remembers how he got the wound. Copper hits her tongue and she spits blood and spit onto the floor by his feet. “Charming company you keep.”

“I apologize if he offended you, General,” Hank says. He grabs a chair from the side and drags it over, facing the back to her and straddling the chair. A move to make them appear as equals, she notes. She regards him coldly and waits for him to speak. He smiles at her and says, “I said it once before but I’ll remind you this isn’t how I wanted this to go. I didn’t want violence involved, it’s a shame your friends had to come in guns blazing.”

“Are they hurt?” she asks, trying to keep her face calm.

He shrugs, “Dunno. They took off. Killed at least three of mine though, before they were run off. Where did they go?”

Madalyn shrugs, glancing away and trying to seem unfazed by the news. “Honestly don’t know. Just a couple of random mercs I hired for in case there was danger in the Castle when I got here. I guess my instincts were right.”

He smiles cheekily, “General, if I thought I could walk up to Sanctuary and ask for you to talk to me, do you think I’d make it far? I don’t. I couldn’t risk it, you know. So we took the Castle by surprise and locked up your people. Had the radio man set a message on repeat for you to come here to us. I was hoping we could lure you in and coerce you into talking to me peacefully. But that didn’t happen. I’m sure you understand though, things never go exactly as planned.”

“I honestly wouldn’t know. Never attempted a kidnapping before. Personally, I have a certain dislike towards them.”

He takes in her angry expression and smiles softly, “Ah, starting off wrong again. I keep messing this up don’t I? What can I do to make you not want to kill me the second I remove your restraints?”

“What happened to the people I had here?” Madalyn asks. 

“As I said, they’re locked up. Found the little basement you have below full of goodies and locked them down there. None of them were harmed… too much. We had to pacify those who put up a fight somehow,” he tells her. She hears the truth in his voice and feels a bit of relief. “There was that springy old woman you mentioned before, she’s with them too if you were wondering. Put up a bit of a fight so we had to make extra care with her. Wouldn’t have expected that from her.”

“Ronnie,” Madalyn confirms. She feels pride in knowing that Ronnie made an impact and probably took a few men down before they were able to get a hold on her. “So what do you want from me?”

“Word is you’ve been to the Institute,” he says quickly and to the point. “I need you to tell me how to get there.”

“What?” Madalyn asks, taken off guard. “Why would you want to go there?”

“Why else?” Hank shoots back. “To kill them, of course. To destroy the Institute once and for all.”

“And you think you can do that?” she asks nonplussed. 

He smirks, “General, no offense. But I think I have better chances than you and your little group of Minuteman do against the Institute.”

“I don’t think it’s in your best interest to underestimate my ‘little group of Minuteman,’ Hank,” she retorts. 

“Again, no offense meant. I’m just tellin’ it how I see it. Now, you been there, right?” Hank asks, his expression expectant in the answer. 

Madalyn purses her lips, thinking. “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been to a lot of places. Can you describe it?”

He frowns, “My source was very clear than you have been there and back. It wouldn’t do well to avoid answering me because I know the answer already.”

“Who is your source?” she asks, leaning as far as her restraints let her. “I’m dying to know.”

Hank smirks, “I’m sure you are. Now answer the question.”

She leans back with a huff and turns her face away. “If you’re so confident you know the answer then why bother asking?”

“I wanna hear it for myself,” he tells her. “I want you to tell me how to get there, what the layout is and a rough estimate of how many people and synths they have.”

“Well I want a lot of things as well. But we don’t always get what we want,” Madalyn replies in a mock-motherly tone. 

Hank’s hand fists and he rises from the chair, shoving it away. He paces in front of her, “You’re really testing my patience here, General. I know you’re not working for the Institute so why are you protecting it?”

“Why do you think I’m protecting it?” she asks, genuine confusion in her tone. 

“By not answerin’ the goddamn question!” Hank bursts, turning to her in rage. Madalyn doesn’t reply but stares at him as he stares back. A moment passes and he lets out a huff and turns towards the door, “I’ll let you think about how you want to proceed from here and then come back. Just remember this; there’s a group of people loyal to you down below and I don’t think they’d appreciate what would happen if you continue to not cooperate with me.” He glances at her and with a tip of his head says as he leaves, “General.”

Madalyn watches him go and once she’s alone she pulls hard against the the bonds, cursing under her breath. Emotions she had been holding back since regaining consciousness flood through her and she allows them passage for a moment, not wanting them to build up too much. Fear for the safety of her friends. Relief that, from what it seems, Deacon and MacCready made it out safely. A small glimmer of hope that they will return full force and be able free her. Worry of what exactly the unknown forces behind Hank are capable of. “Who are you, Hank?” she mumbles under her breath. 

She sighs and leans back in her chair, trying to feel where her weapons typically lie against her body. Her gun is obviously gone. The 10mm in her pant lining, the dagger in her boot, and the small pistol in the back of her chest plate are all removed as well. Madalyn wriggles her wrist and feels the sharp edge of the metal nail file up her sleeve. She works her arm up and downs trying to move the sleeve against the bindings and slide the file down. It’s an old one she found in her bathroom, somehow still intact, in the drawer under the sink. She first grabbed it when she was going through the house and kept it because she wanted to cling to anything from her old life. She continued to keep it afterwards because it became convenient to keep her nails orderly, somewhat sharp, for in case she needed them for a fight. That and sometimes her nails just annoyed her too much. 

She finally feels the rough surface of the file on her palm and she clutches it tight. She glances at the door and listens for anyone outside. The brightening light outside tells her that dawn is looming and the Castle around her is slowly coming to life. No voices come her way so she grips the file and finds the edge of the rope around her wrists. Making sure she has it angled just right, she begins the arduous task of sawing. 

She keeps her eyes glued on the door as she works, ears strained to hear the sounds from outside the room. Every once in a while she pulls against the restraints, checking to see if it’s still too tight. She watches as the light outside continues to brighten, the sun starting to rise up in the sky. She feels the pressure on her bladder and the emptiness of her stomach hard. But she focuses all of her energy on the task at her back. 

When she thinks she’s about halfway through, the sound of footstep approaching reaches her ears. Madalyn quickly slides the file back into her sleeve and curls her hands around the section of the rope she was working on. She watches as one of the goons walks into the room, a cup of liquid in one hand and squirrel bits on a stick in the other. Without speaking he walks over to her and holds out the stick near her mouth. 

Madalyn stares at him and then the food, alternating her gaze. After a frustrated moment of watching her he huffs out, “What?”

“Not hungry,” she tells him curtly. 

“This is your only chance, bitch. I would take it,” he snarls. 

“No thanks,” she says and smiles at him sweetly. She glances at the cup he holds and feels her mouth dry at the sight of water. 

“If you won’t take one, you ain’t gettin’ the other.”

She frowns at him and then curls her lips into a scowl. “Fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs and then takes a big drink from the cup right in front of her. When he finishes he smacks his lips and gives a satisfying sigh. He smirks at her and then as he leaves the room takes a bite of the meat off of the stick. 

Madalyn watches with a blank expression, not giving him anything in return of his show he gave her. When she’s sure he’s away and no one is returning, she gets back to work.

It takes her less time to get through the rest of the rope as when she started. Maybe it was because of the motivation coming towards her from her stomach and dry mouth, she isn’t sure. But eventually she feels the rope give a little and she pauses to feel how much is left as best as she can. 

As she’s checking it for what she hope is the last time, she is startled when she Hank bursts through the doorway. She jumps in her seat and she feels the file slip from her fingers and fall to the floor, the barest of a sound signifying it hitting the concrete below. 

Somehow, Hank doesn’t hear it. He glares at her from the doorway, “Why do you refuse to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” she says simply in response. 

“I know that’s a lie. You haven’t eaten since you got here yesterday evening. It’s already midday, you have to be a little hungry,” he argues. 

While he talks to her, Madalyn slowly works on pulling and twisting the rope at the weak point. When he finishes, she feels it give for the last time and then break apart. She tries to hide a reaction to it, merely looking at him and saying, “I’m not hungry… but I do need to use the little ladies room.”

He gives her an incredulous look, “You mean you have to piss?”

“Yes. As you said I haven’t been able to do anything in a long time. And it’s not like I can just go where I’m sitting. I could get an infection down there if I sit in it,” she rambles. He stares and she shifts her arms visibly and glances down at her bound feet, “I would need your help to do it, though. I’m rather stuck.”

He contemplates and then turns his head and whistles out the door. The goon from before comes into sight and looks expectantly at Hank. “Fine, General. But we’ll make it a quick one,” Hank says to her, ignoring the summoned goon. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out handcuffs, “Found these lyin’ around. Figured they could come in handy. Now would be as good a time as any.” He looks back towards the goon, “Go ahead, untie her.”

The goon steps forward and kneels down at her feet, using a dagger from his belt to cut through the rope. Apparently he didn’t want to spend the time untying the knot. She waits patiently as he releases each leg and then she spares a glance up at Hank, who watches with boredom.

Right before the goon goes to stand Madalyn lifts her leg and kicks him in the groin. As he groans and keels over in pain she brings her hand forward, gripping the nail file tightly and rams the sharp end into his temple with all of her force. She feels the file slide through flesh and she reaches down further and grabs the dagger from his now-limp hands. 

Madalyn looks back up the doorway and sees Hank watching her with wide-eyes, reaching back towards his gun on his hip. She jumps up before he can and rushes him, dagger held ready. He stops his movement and slides into a defensive pose, trying to grab her as she swings with the blade. 

They grapple and she kicks out with her leg, striking him on his wound on his leg and knocking him to the ground. He falls hard onto the concrete and Madalyn tries to move past him. As she almost makes it free she feels a hand wrap around her ankle and pull. She falls face first onto the ground and her head hits hard, dizzying her for a moment. 

She feels him crawl overtop of her and try to wrestle the dagger from her hand. Madalyn hears footsteps running towards them and she glances away to see men running in their direction, guns pointed at her. “Hold,” Hank orders to them and they stop a few feet away, watching. 

Madalyn continues to fight, not wanting to give in already. She keeps her grip tight on the dagger and swings with her left hand to his face. It connects and she uses the distraction to use her weight and flip them, her now on top and instead aiming the dagger at his throat. 

He blocks her and grabs her wrist tight with both of his hands. She snarls at him as she pushes, ignoring the feeling of at least a dozen guns aimed at her, ready to fire when ordered so. “Do you think you’ll get out of this alive if you kill me?” he asks redundantly. 

“No. But I can take you down with me,” she tells him. His eyes widen slightly and she knows he sees the truth in her words. His strength gives for a moment and she gains another inch towards his throat. Then suddenly she feels a pain in her neck and the world goes black. 

 

When she regains consciousness, Madalyn finds herself sitting in a room deeper in the Castle, shoved in the corner and hands handcuffed to a pipe in the wall. She sits on the floor, propped up against the wall, the stone cool against her bruising cheek. Faint light fills the room, the old bulbs thrumming with power coming from the generators outside. The room is vacant aside from herself and the door tightly shut. 

Her left arms feels light and she looks at her wrist, panic seizing her when she sees the Pip-Boy no longer attached. She hadn’t taken it off ever since she first left the vault, at least not for longer than a few minutes. She feels more naked and exposed now than she had in a long time. She glances around the room and feels a bit of relief when she sees the Pip-Boy sitting on one of the tables along the wall, the screen black and waiting. 

She sits alone for a long amount of time. She can hear men walking past the room and some, presumably guards, greeting them from just outside the door. She contemplates letting them know she’s awake but she also sees no point in making the inevitable occur anytime sooner. She’s getting rather tired of the game she’s had to play with Hank. But she just needs more time. Time to think of her own plan; time to allow others outside to make a move; time to figure out who exactly Hank is and how much power he has. 

Eventually the door opens and, unsurprisingly, Hank walks through. He walks around the desk in the center of the room and sits in the chair, looming over her. She gives a small smirk of satisfaction when she sees his limp even more severe than before. “Well, General,” he starts, regarding her with a strange look. “This definitely isn’t going in the right direction.”

“Don’t take it out on my people,” she says threateningly. 

“You’re not helping in making me not want to,” he says honestly. “I’m just asking for some simple cooperation. I don’t understand what’s so hard about that.” 

Madalyn scoffs in response and leans her head against the stone, exhaustion preventing her from putting more energy into the conversation. He frowns at her and says, “If you give me something I can make this easier on you. For every bit of information I can give you something in return. Food, water, a bed. A simple give-and-take system. Well… take and give, in this case.”

“I’ll pass,” she says. 

Hank sighs and shakes his head, looking at her. He opens his mouth to speak when they hear a soft, but loud enough, ‘thwump’ from outside and above them. Madalyn freezes, recognizing the sound. “What the hell was that?” Hank asks. 

Madalyn counts the seconds that pass in her head, waiting with anticipation, hope building. Soon enough, the ground around them shakes and small stones drop from the ceiling above, a loud boom meeting their ears. Hank turns to Madalyn, face full of fury. “What the fuck was that?”

Madalyn smirks at him, “Artillery.”

Hank lets out a frustrated roar and stomps/limps into the hallway, barking orders to the men outside. Madalyn hears the blissful sound of gun and laser fire from outside. The artillery machine shoots into the air once more. She feels her heart beating in her chest in anticipation as she awaits the resulting explosion. The ground shakes and more stones fall around her when it finally lands. 

Minutes pass in that fashion. Yelling and sounds of battle float into her room as she waits for the result. Her skin itch and hands ache to be out there, helping and fighting for her cause. She yanks on the handcuffs more and more as each minute passes and her anger rises. 

After the eighth artillery explosion, bigger bits of stone fall from the ceiling above her. Madalyn looks up, fear striking her for a moment. The building is old, even older than her, and she instantly turns her worry into the stability in the room she resides in. When she hears the artillery loose once more into the sky she continues to look up, waiting to see what happens to the structure of the room. 

When it lands, the room shakes violently and boulder-sized stones fall from above. One falls right next to her and she jumps away, her limited mobility driving her crazy. Dust fills the room and glides into her lungs with each breath she takes. Madalyn glances at the door, desperate for any way to get out. 

A figure appears in the dust and a flash of hope erupts inside of her. “In here!” she calls, coughing immediately after as more dust tries to shove into her lungs. As they near she first sees a thin, sauntering shape approaching her through the dust. Her heart flutters for a moment and her mouth starts to curl into a grin. 

Hank stops in front of her and Madalyn feels her blood turn cold and a frown covers her face. He doesn’t say anything, just glares as he unhooks the handcuff from around the pipe. When it’s free he jerks her forward, ensuring that the cuffs on both wrists are painfully tight. He drags her behind him as he heads for the door and into the hallway. 

Hank grabs his gun from its holster and holds it tight in the hand not dragging Madalyn. The sound of fighting gets even louder as they walk through the Castle, passing the arches leading into the courtyard. With the combination of the dark sky and smoke from artillery and guns, visibility outside is highly limited. Madalyn tries to look as they pass, trying to see those fighting outside. But every time she almost gets a decent look, Hank tugs on the cuffs and she stumbles, loosing her balance and having to look away. 

Hank finally leads her out into the courtyard but keeps them against the wall, heading towards the archway out of the Castle along the coastline. She frowns when seeing their path and tries to twist and turn to look around for a familiar face, fighting against Hank as he continues to drag her forward. 

“Madalyn!” she hears a familiar voice call. Her heart stops and she tries to fight harder against Hank’s grip. 

He gets her outside and his men surround them, pushing her along. Madalyn turns and tries to look over their heads and through the archway. For a second she sees a familiar green cap and she starts pushing back even harder. She’s oh-so tired, both from lack of sustenance and non-chem induced sleep. But she fights with all of the strength left in her body. 

They shove her, hard, and she falls to the ground. A familiar rifle fires nearby and one of them drops. Another one grabs her by the arms and lifts her up and onto a boat. “No!” Madalyn screams, thrashing against them as hard as she can. Another falls to a rifle shot and she looks in the direction it came from. 

MacCready stands by the archway, scope against his eye as he fires constant shots, each making it to a target. He sees her looking at him and he pulls the gun away, eyes wide. “Madalyn!” he calls again. 

“MacCready!” she yells back and is forcefully pushed down onto the bottom of the boat. She feels the engine come to life and the boat pushes away from the shore. 

MacCready runs towards them, anger clear on his face. Madalyn tries to fight against the men holding her down, watching MacCready as he reaches the edge of the water. “No! Madalyn!” he yells and starts to walk into the waves. 

“No, Mac!” she yells at him, wanting him to stop. She knows he wouldn’t be able to reach her. She tries to see his form as the boat turns and rounds the Castle, heading north and hiding MacCready from her sight. 

Madalyn slumps against the bottom of the boat, suddenly feeling hot tears down her cheeks. She glances around and sees a handful of Hank’s men surrounding her, keeping her from the edge. Hank sits at the front of the boat, talking to the person driving it. He glances back at her and when he sees her dejected, torn up expression, he smiles.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is less action more talkey-filler type. But still important!

His shoes and pants are soaked through. His body shivers in the cold from both the night and the water. He takes another step forward, fighting against the current, staring at the last place he saw her. 

“MacCready!” Deacon’s voice calls out to him. MacCready ignores him and pushes onwards, the water pressing against his waist now. Hands grab his arms and haul him back towards the shore. 

“Let me go,” MacCready growls at the man holding him. He struggles against the strong grip as best as he can, though subconsciously knowing it fruitless. He feels another pair of hands grab onto him and together they both pull him back from the depths of the water. They drag him onto the shore and deposit him on the ground. MacCready sits and glares at Deacon and Preston as they stand above him. 

“What are you doing?” Preston asks sternly. 

MacCready sees movement in his peripheral and sees Valentine and Piper walking out to join the entourage. He bites the inside of his cheek from snapping at them. He knows his anger has nothing to do with them. But it’s there and he wants, no needs, to let it out. “What happened?” Valentine asks as they approach. 

“They took her. Again,” MacCready bites. He clambers to his feet and allows himself to at least _glare_ at them.

“How?” Piper asks, concern clear on her face. 

“On a boat. All I know is they went north,” MacCready says. He feels them all look at him with sympathy, staring at his drenched and shivering form. 

“Come on kid, let’s get you near a fire,” Valentine says, gesturing for MacCready to follow. 

“I’m fine,” he says through chattering teeth, but he still follows. The others follow a few paces behind him, keeping a bit of distance. 

They enter the courtyard and see Danse and Hancock rounding up a group of men from the opposing side into a corner. Danse looks over when MacCready and the others enter and he simply nods in recognition to them. Cait and Codsworth are huddled by the barrier door, trying to undo what the mercenaries had done to lock the door down once more. The rest of the settlers and minutemen they had gathered work around the Castle to clear all signs of the fight and clean up the mess that occurred in their absence. 

Valentine leads MacCready inside and towards the kitchen in the back. They enter the room and see a spotlight focused a single chair in the center of the room. A blood splatter covers the floor in front of the chair. A piece of metal sits in the center and Valentine leans down, picking up the piece and inspecting it. 

“What is it?” Preston asks. 

“Looks like a nail file,” Valentine informs them. 

MacCready steps forward and looks at the object. “I’ve seen it before,” he tells the others. “It’s hers.” 

Everyone looks at the object with a somewhat surprised look, seeing it covered in blood. MacCready decides not to think too hard about it and instead turns his back and hovers in the corner of the room. “Interesting, that’s for sure,” Valentine comments. He pockets the file and then resumes his task, walking over towards the wood stove against the wall. Everyone watches him as he works, all silently focused on whatever that they are contemplating in their heads. 

MacCready runs the scenario over and over in his head, trying to see where he messed up the most. Each time he contemplates his actions since they first attacked. Each time he sees the only right moves to be the ones he had chosen. Each time he remembers the way she called out to him and how he had to watch her get taken once more. 

“Come here, kid. Warm up,” Valentine cuts into his thoughts. MacCready looks up with a start and sees him standing by the now-lit stove. He is drawn to the heat and moves to stand in front of it, his freezing body welcoming the warmth. 

“So what now?” Piper asks, glancing around at the others in the room. 

“Now we figure out what happened and who these people were,” Preston answers. 

“And what they want,” Valentine adds. “If we can figure that out then maybe it’ll help us understand the motive behind their actions.”

“Taking the General was a bold move, that’s for sure. Something tells me this is more than just a band of mercs we’re up against here,” Preston says. “They’d have to be confident that they could go up against all those who stand behind her to make that call.”

“Or idiots,” Deacon chimes in. 

MacCready listens to this all in silence, his face impassive. This is the kind of thing he was always the worst at. The talking and planning, going into logistics and motives. He focuses more on the feeling of warmth from the stove beside him, trying to thaw out his fingers and toes at the same time.

“We can interrogate one of the mercs outside, see what they know. If they’re just a hired gun they may not know much, but we can get as much out of them as we can,” Preston suggests. 

“Well look who we found down below,” Hancock announces as he saunters into the room. Everyone turns in surprise and some smile when seeing Ronnie Shaw behind him. She stands in the doorway and surveys the room, her sharp gaze taking in every detail. 

“Ronnie. I’m glad to see you,” Preston steps forward, clear relief on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. None of us were injured too badly when they took over. Thankfully they weren’t smart enough to take the medical supplies from the basement when they shoved us all down there, just took the weapons.” She slowly walks into the room and sits down on one of the chairs. She gives a deep sigh before looking around, meeting the eyes of each individual in the room. “Now, why don’t I tell you all what happened from my perspective and you guys can fill in the gaps from there. How’s that sound?”

Preston nods affirmation and everyone shifts slightly, getting into comfortable positions as they prepare to listen. MacCready glances at the door and sees Danse hovering just outside the room, guarding-but-not-guarding the impromptu meeting in the kitchens, but still within earshot to hear what is being said. 

Ronnie takes a deep breath before she begins. “I was inside doing inventory of the weapons room when they first started attacking. From what I could gather they did a flanking maneuver, came at us from all three exits. All at once, just popped up and pushed their way inside. Didn’t really hit anyone with their bullets though, just pushed everyone back until they could knock us out. I was able to grab a few mines and pick off some from afar, but then one snuck up on me and put me out cold. 

“When I came to we were put in the basement; shoved into a corner and surrounded by a group of them. Had our hands tied together and everything. They wouldn’t answer any of our questions, just ignored us when we talked to them. Eventually one came in and introduced himself as ‘Hank’… from what I could tell he’s the one who pulls the strings.

“He told us to ‘remain calm’ and that they wouldn’t hurt us as long as we didn’t do anything rash. Then he asked who controlled the radio station and of course Brian spoke up before anyone could argue. They pulled him out and they were gone for about half an hour or so. When they brought him back he told us what they had him do. Said that they had this place swarming with men and that they were fortifying it in all sorts of ways. 

“I wanna say we were down there for about four days or so. Then we heard some fighting and what sounded like a grenade go off yesterday. Then of course today the artillery went off and had our guards running out and leaving us alone. Didn’t take long for us to get out of the bonds and make our way up.” Ronnie sighs and leans back in her chair, letting it sink in for a moment. “That’s about it,” she shrugs. “Aside from a lot of sitting and waiting and smelling like shit, nothing more to say. Now your turn.”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow when she looks around and sees everyone looking in MacCready’s direction. He glares at those within immediate sight. His arms are curled around his torso as his body still shakes slightly, though probably now more from the adrenalin than the cold as his body temperature had risen while she talked. He glances at Preston and sees the expectant expression and finally relents. 

He recounts the story for her. He starts, as before, with the call from the radio. He tells her about what happened when they first got to the Castle. About getting a ride from Danse and the Brotherhood to Sanctuary. She raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t interrupt, merely listens as he continues. 

“We left Sanctuary right after we got a plan together. We had to walk the whole way but still made it here sometime before the afternoon. We camped out in one of the buildings nearby and let everyone rest and get ready. Once night started to fall we headed over here. We were able to get Preston and Janet up onto the top off the Castle and they hijacked the artillery. Once it went off, we made our move. Lots of grenades, even used one of the General’s fat man’s, and had them turning tail and running soon enough.”

“What happened to the General?” Ronnie asks, eyes hard as she stares at him. 

MacCready ignores the pitied looks from Valentine and Deacon and says with a blank expression, “Couldn’t get to her in time. They put her on a boat and went north somewhere.”

Ronnie sighs, again, and says sadly, “Well, that’s a shame. But I would look at this as a victory. You lot were able to get the Castle back and the minutemen back in control. Now I know the General is lost, but they haven’t killed her yet so they must have a reason. And I wouldn’t put her on the sidelines just yet… I think we can all agree that she’s probably not making this easy for them.”

A few heads nod in agreement at her words. MacCready’s hands fist but he doesn’t reply and tries his best to fade in the background while the others talk. He sees Ronnie give him a curious glance before she turns back towards Preston. “What was your next move?”

“Going to grab one of the prisoners and interrogate him, see what kind of information we can gather.”

She nods and slowly comes to her feet, “As much as I love a good interrogation, I’m going to sit this one out. Going to make better use of my skills elsewhere.” She looks to Hancock who stands near the door, “Hancock, join me.”

The ghoul gives her a wicked smile follows her out the door, his voice trailing them as he says something flirtatious to her. Preston walks over to Danse, “Let’s go grab one of the prisoners.”

MacCready watches them both leave and silence envelopes the room once more. Piper, Deacon and Valentine spare each other glances. He ignores them, head down as he remains hunched over the oven. He can feel his hands and feet begin to sweat and his pants starting to dry, but he doesn’t move from his position. 

Danse and Preston return, Danse dragging one of the mercs behind him. The man is bedraggled and has blood running down his face, which holds a deep scowl. He glares at the group when inside the room and struggles lightly against the power-armored soldier. Danse sets him down in one of the chairs hard and says, “I wouldn’t think about making a move if I were you.”

“Fuck you,” the merc says. 

“My, you have such good manners,” Piper sneers, arms crossed as she stands a few strides away. Valentine steps forward and he and Preston stand abreast the merc. Deacon moves to be within sight, watching the proceedings with a silent demeanor. 

“Screw you,” the merc spits at Piper. 

“Now don’t be mean to the lady,” Valentine tsk’s. “What’s your name, son?”

“Like I’m going to tell you.” Danse steps closer to him and the merc flinches, having to tilt his head back to look up at the Paladin. “It’s… it’s Quinn.”

“Quinn,” Nick drawls. “We need some information from you, Quinn. How you cooperate could help your cause here, even get us to let you go sooner than later.”

“What do you want to know?” Quinn asks, looking around the room wearily.

“Anything you know about Hank and what he was doing here. Are you just a hired gun or have some other affiliation with him? Where does he like to hide out when he’s not out taking things that don’t belong to him? Those sort of questions.” Valentine prompts. 

“Naw, I’m not a part of Hank’s crew,” Quinn shakes his head. “I was working with Pete and his group of men when Hank bought us out for the week. Pete was taken down yesterday, but Hank paid for our services already so the rest of us stayed.” He glances about with a concerned look, almost regretting what he said already. “Look I didn’t sign up to get in the middle of all of this. I don’t think I have the kind of information you’re looking for.”

“I think you’re lying,” Deacon speaks up. “Are you afraid of him?”

Quinn stares at Deacon for a moment, seeming to think very hard about what he wants to say. “The guy paid each of us a thousand caps upfront for a weeks worth of services. And from what I hear he did that with all of the men he had, ‘cept for those who were already a part of his gang. Didn’t even blink an eye when he handed it over. Someone like that? Definitely powerful.”

“Are you aware of who you guys took?” MacCready asks, gaze off to the side, not looking at anyone in particular. 

“The chick?” Quinn asks. “I heard someone mumbling about her being a General. Of the minutemen? That’s who you guys are, right?”

“She’s not _just_ the General of the minuteman. Did you hear the rumors a few months back about a vault dweller running around, saving the Brotherhood of Steel from a bunch of ghouls? About the person who pretended to be the Silver Shroud and took down a gang tying to infiltrate Goodneighbor? Someone who took down a group of super mutants holding up in Trinity Tower?” MacCready asks, finally looking Quinn by the end, his gaze intense. “And that’s not all of it.”

“That’s her?” Quinn asks, confused. 

“Yeah. And these people here? Those outside who were already here and who came and helped take this place back? They’re here because of her. Not because she paid them, but because they believe in her and what she’s trying to accomplish. I’d say that’s a hell of a lot more powerful than just being able to throw a thousand caps around at people,” he snaps, breathing heavily. He can feels the eyes of everyone baring into him but he doesn’t care. He meets Quinn in the eyes and eventually the other man drops his gaze. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Good,” Valentine nods. “Go ahead.”

Quinn takes a deep breath, glances around again, and then begins talking. “He took this place because he wanted to get… her. I was standing guard outside when he first talked to her. He was saying stuff about just wanting to talk, not wanting things to be violent between the two of them. But I’ve seen the way he treats people and I know that’s a lie. He was asking her about getting into the Institute… the crazy bastard. All I know is she refused and he got pissed and left. He took it out on a few men and one of them didn’t live for long after that. 

“Later he tried talking to her again and she somehow was able to kill one of the other mercs. She and him fought for a minute after and I think she would’ve been able to kill him if someone didn’t knock her out with a drug. After that he had her chained up into one of the rooms inside here. That’s all I know, I’m not lyin’ about that. He didn’t tell us anything that we didn’t need to know. We didn’t even get our orders until right before we had to do them. 

“As for a hide-out…. I heard mentions once of an old farm somewhere in Salem, but that’s it.” Quinn looks around the room expectantly, seeming relieved to have gotten all of that off his chest. 

“Thanks, Quinn. You’ve been a big help,” Valentine smiles. He nods to Danse and the Paladin pulls the merc up by the back of his shirt and leads him out of the room. 

Once they’re gone Preston and Valentine turn around to face the others. “Not going to lie, that was a bit more than I was expecting,” Preston says. 

“We got lucky and grabbed the one who actually paid attention to what was going on around him,” Piper remarks. 

“Do we trust what he had to say?” Deacon asks. 

Valentine nods, “I believe him. Our man MacCready here was pretty convincing when he argued against Hank and for Madalyn.”

MacCready bristles at the mention and looks down towards his feet. “What next?” he asks into the silence. 

“I think we should spread the word of what we’re looking for and hope someone comes forward with information. We should also send some people to try and scout out the farms up in Salem. Even if it’s not where they are, we could still hope for some clues,” Preston says. 

Piper stretches her arms above her head, exhaustion clear on her face and body, and takes a step towards the door. “I can head out to Diamond City. Can talk to Travis and Vadim and a few contacts I have, see if they’ve heard of Hank and have them spread the word.”

“I’ll go with you. I have a few contacts myself that I think could be useful here,” Valentine says and joins her. 

“Let us know what you find out as soon as you can,” Preston tells them. They both nod and leave the room, passing Danse as he comes back inside. 

“I’ve received word that I need to report back to the Prydwen. Elder Maxson’s going to want an update as to what happened here. I can also see what he may know about this ‘Hank’,” Danse says. 

Preston nods, “The Minutemen appreciate your help in this situation, Danse. I know us and the Brotherhood may not always see eye-to-eye, but-“

“No thanks is necessary,” Danse interrupts. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything that may be of use.” He turns on his heel and stomps out of the room. The three remaining men watch him as he goes. 

“Always such a good conversationalist,” Deacon murmurs. 

MacCready snorts and nods. He looks at Preston and says, “I’ll go out with the group heading to Salem. I think three minutemen should be good enough. We can leave by morning.”

Preston regards him silently for a moment before saying, “Okay. But you need to get some sleep beforehand, MacCready. I’m pretty sure you haven’t slept at all since before the incident yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” MacCready argues. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry,” Deacon assures the minuteman. Preston nods and MacCready sighs, heading towards the door and away from the other two. He makes his way up the stairs and onto the top level of the Castle walls. He walks towards the edge facing north, staring out into the water. 

A few minutes pass before he hears footsteps approach him from behind and he doesn’t turn to see who it is. After a moment Deacon steps beside him and holds out an object. “They found this in one of the rooms under some rubble.”

MacCready looks down and keeps his expression blank as he stares at he Pip-Boy. Slowly he grabs it from Deacon and holds it delicately in his hand. He lightly brushes off the dust and inspects it for any severe damage. After content that it’s okay he glances at Deacon and murmurs, “Thanks.”

Deacon stands quietly beside him for a few more minutes. Eventually he must’ve gotten bored because he asks, “You alright man?”

“I will be, once we get her back,” MacCready tells him honestly. 

“It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Really?” he snorts. “It’s not yours either.” Deacon looks at him surprised and MacCready smiles. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone else has noticed. But I see it. The same thing I’m feeling. So don’t tell me it’s not my fault if you’re feeling the same way. Doesn’t work that way.”

Deacon smiles, “Fine.” A moment of silence follows and then he speaks up again. “I do think Ronnie had a point though. I can bet you that wherever they are, she’s not giving up without a fight. We heard that Quinn guy, she took down one of theirs and almost took out Hank before someone intervened. She’s a strong woman… she’ll have them running soon enough.”

“I hope so,” MacCready mumbles, eyes still on the water below. For a moment he sees the image of her on the boat staring back at him, her face stricken and pained, and his heart breaks all over again. “I’ll get her back, no matter what it takes.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******Torture of both physical and chemical below. Please be warned******
> 
>  
> 
> Important note at the bottom. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

By the time the boat docks, Madalyn’s skin is raw and sore from the wind and salt in the air. Her stomach grumbles strongly in hunger and her bladder threatens to burst. Her throat is dry and parched beyond what she thought ever capable. But she keeps her mouth shut and stares off into the distance. 

She doesn’t move when they dock, forcing the men around her to grab her and haul her up and onto land. She doesn’t make an effort to walk so they drag her along the shore, eventually turning and heading inland. 

After a few moments of traveling in that fashion they stop and she hears Hank sigh and call a halt. “Stop dragging her, it’s taking too much time. You,” he points to one of the mercs. “Pick her up and carry her.”

The merc grumbles but does as he’s ordered. He grabs her behind her back and legs and hoists her up into his arms. She lies limply and closes her eyes, exhaustion threatening to take over. 

Every now and then she opens her eyes to watch their progress. She tries hard to keep track of where they are taking her. She sees the shore slowly disappear from view as they head further and further inland. 

Time passes with her zoning in and out. Every time she regains consciousness she marks where they are. Eventually she awakes when they are carrying her up a small set up stairs onto a porch. She gazes around slowly, not recognizing the area surrounding the small house. They bring her inside and she sees the basics set-up of the pre-war abandoned home. A table, three chairs, dresser with a radio on top, and a torn up bed. 

One of the mercs moves the bed to reveal a steel door made into the floor. They open it and let Hank enter first. The merc holding Madalyn glances down at her in his arms and he sighs. “This ain’t gonna be easy,” he mumbles. He peeks down the hole and she can briefly see a steep set of stairs that spiral down into the darkness. He adjusts her in his arms so she is curled even tighter on herself and then turns to the side, slowly taking the first step onto the stairs. 

She blacks out momentarily, waking up as he is nearing the end of the stairs. She can hear annoyed murmurs from the other mercs in one ear and the heavy breathing from the one holding her in the other. The sound of his boots hitting tile when he gets to the bottom draws her attention to the room around them. 

They stand in a large room with the stairs leading up to the surface at the center. The walls are all stone and dirt, surrounding them in a circle. The floor is a finished tile, appearing to at first having been white but now a tan-ish yellow. On the wall directly across from the bottom of the stairs sits a smaller version of the vault door that she had once been behind and looked to as a form of safety. There are no numbers or symbols in the center, just the words ‘Vault-Tec’ forever embossed in the metal. 

The door is half open, the bridge on the other side already in place and people move across it to the inside of the vault. The merc holding her carries her towards it and starts across the bridge. Madalyn tries to take in as much detail as she can of the strange vault. 

The interior design is much different from the few vaults she had been inside. The first room is a control room, the walls a clean white. The mercenaries flooding the room look out of place in contrast to the clean and formal environment. Only one hall leads out of the control room. Instead of the typically three-scanner machine for radiation, one big ring fills up the circumference off the hall. 

She is carried through and the machine lets out a low beep as they pass. He takes her deeper into the vault, down the long hallway. They don’t pass any doors or side rooms as they continue down a straight hall. Madalyn feels sleep try to creep upon her but she fights it off as much as she can, still wanting to see where they go. 

Eventually they reach the end and the hall turns right. He turns and she finally sees doors leading into other rooms. A glance inside as they pass reveals rooms full of bunks, couches and lockers. One large kitchen and a community room. Then they stop passing rooms for another long walk through the hall. 

The hall turns left and opens up into a laboratory. Madalyn tries to look at the equipment, see what they are used for, if at all. She catches a glimpse of a microscope and flasks with multi-colored liquids. She tries to see the names on certain vials but comes up empty. 

After they pass through the lab they start in a hallway again. At the end sits the open door of an office, finally completing the longevity of the hall. Four rooms surround the sides. One sits cracked open, a small glimpse of a bed inside. Another shows a bathroom. The other two, those closest to the lab on either side, are rooms with windows allowing view of the inside from the hallway. 

The left one has a table with chairs surrounding it conference room style. The other has the table and chairs shoved to one side with the chairs stacked, clearing the room. Stuffed against a wall is a cot with a flat pillow and thin blanket atop it. Madalyn gazes at it wearily and feels her eyes begin to drop closed once more. 

The merc carries her towards the bathroom and sets her down on her feet. He forcibly removes all of her armor, setting them in a pile in the hallway. When he removes her chest plate the toy soldier falls to the ground and he bends over to pick it up. “What’s this?” 

“Don’t,” she mumbles. 

He grunts and pockets the toy and she feels her eyes begin to water with rage and sorrow. She begins to fall and he catches her, shoving her towards the shower. “Clean up,” he orders. He turns his back on her and stands in the doorway, the door partially closed behind him. 

Madalyn looks to the toilet and stumbles towards it. Ignoring the brute in the doorway she pulls down her pants hastily and allows her body to relieve itself. Once done she stumbles over to the sink and scrubs her hands and face clean. Afterwards she grips the edges of the sink tightly, glaring at her reflection in the mirror in front of her. 

The face that stares back is tired and beaten. One cheek is purple and her lip busted at the top. Dark circles encompass the bottom of her eyes. Her gaze is weak, not sharp or threatening. She stares for a moment longer before mumbling out to the merc, “I’m done.”

He turns to face her with a sigh, knowing she had not used the shower as he has been ordered to have her do. He looks at her for a moment before relenting and grabbing her, taking her back into the hallway. He brings her to the second conference room and sets her down on the cot. Wordlessly he turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it. 

She stares at the window showing her the hallway. She watches as two more mercs come to stand guard outside of her room, talking in quiet murmurs that she cannot hear. She lies her head down onto the pillow, sleep pushing her to lie down and allow her body the rest it so desperately craves. And she complies. 

 

She wakes up again when her body is roughly pulled off of the cot and onto its feet. She sags from fatigue and lack of awareness and the person grips her from under her shoulders. They drag her out of the room and towards the lab, not caring that her feet are scraping along the floor behind her. 

“Set her here,” Hank’s voice says. 

She is set upon a large chair and her arms placed upon the armrests. Leather straps are wrapped around her wrists and legs. She is surprised when one comes across her forehead, strapping her head to the back of the hard chair. Another wraps around her neck, putting a light amount of pressure; enough to choke her if she leans forward a fraction. The band on her forehead forces her eyes to be open wider, allowing her to see despite the fatigue plaguing her. 

Hank steps in front of her. Gone is his armor and dirty clothes. He now wears a pair of slacks and button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up on each arm. A dagger pokes out of his belt on his right side, a pistol on the left. He stands with his arms crossed as he surveys her. 

“What is this place?” she mumbles through a dry mouth. 

“Mine,” he replies simply. “But you’re not the one to be asking questions here.”

“Oh? Is the spot reserved?” 

“You think you’re funny,” he remarks. “Or is that an instinct for you? Instead of complying or begging or silence you find it best suited to run your mouth and say whatever quips come to mind.” He gives her a small, unamused smile. “It’s getting tiresome. And it won’t do you any good. We left your people in the dust and they have no idea where we are. There are no chances of getting rescued this time.”

“I don’t need to be rescued,” Madalyn tells him. She stares at him straight in the eye. “I’m going to kill you myself.”

“Really?” he smirks. “I don’t see how you can do that from where you are.”

“Not now, obviously. But I will soon.”

“If you make it that long. From where I stand, you’re barely alive right now. Not through lack of trying on my part.” He turns and walks over to a table with a silver tray on it. Small vials and syringes cover the tray along with a few small scalpels and other sharp objects. “I want you to remember going into this that I gave you a choice. I asked you many times to just tell me what I need to know. I did what I thought would best allow you to give me the information that I need. 

“The thing is, I knew going into this what kind of person you are. I was hoping that I could get you to be on my side. Not that I need your help, but that you had power that I could use. Power over the people of the Commonwealth. But you wouldn’t just tell me what I needed to know. So I had to take this a step further.” He grabs one of the syringes and fills it with the contents of one of the vials. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do this to you. I think I may enjoy this actually.”

He walks over to her with the syringe in hand and stands at her knees, so close she can smell the faint hint of cologne on him. “I will ask once before and after I give this to you. And every time after this. Where is the Institute?”

“Fuck you,” she spits. 

“Okay,” he says. He bends over and inserts the needle of the syringe in her arm. Madalyn watches with slight fear as the chem is injected into her vein and enters her blood stream. 

Once empty he stands back and looks at her with a patient expression. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest as she waits for any sort of effect to kick in. 

She doesn’t notice at first. She merely thinks that she’s beginning to calm down as her pulse begins to slow. Her breathing becomes more even and her vision clears slightly. But then it doesn’t stop. Her heart begins to ache as it continues to beat less and less inside of her chest. In reaction she begins to take deeper, fuller breaths. Panic tries to take her but her heart doesn’t react appropriately. Her vision blurs once more around the edges and she tries to open her mouth to speak. Each beat is loud in her ears as she counts the seconds in between. Four. Seven. Ten. Fifteen. 

Her vision goes white

 

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when she wakes with a start, gasping for breath. She goes to bring her hand to her chest but is stopped and she realizes she is still strapped to the chair. Her eyes focus and she sees Hank sitting back in a chair across from her, watching with interest. 

“What… did you do to me…” she asks through ragged breath. 

“Slowed down your heart to the brink of death. But you technically didn’t die,” Hank tells her. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while and it would seems I’ve finally gotten it right.” He smiles triumphantly and stands from his chair. He walks over to be in front of her, like before, and asks, “Where is the Institute?”

“Fuck. You,” she grits through her teeth. 

He slaps her on her sore cheek, hard. Her head tries to move with the momentum but is held back with the bands around her head and neck. She feels blood rise in her mouth and she spits it directly in his smirking face. He grimaces and wipes it off with a towel from the nearby table. He turns and looks to one of the guards standing nearby. “Get her back in her room.”

The merc-guard nods and approaches her. He removes each strap from across her body and then pulls her up. She is dragged back to her cell and placed once more upon the cot. A tray of food is dropped on the floor and then the door is shut once more.

Her instincts first scream at her to eat, and then to refuse. But she knows if she refuses she would simply perish and they would win. If she wants to win, wants to survive, then she needs the energy the food can provide. So she eats. 

Once she’s done she stumbles over to the window and looks outside. When she looks towards the lab she can barely see inside of it. No movement comes across her view but she can see the chair and her fists tighten. She stares for a moment as she tries to remember the entire layout of the strange vault and how many men she saw. After a few minutes pass her legs start to give so she moves over to the cot and lies down to sleep. 

 

It doesn’t feel like long before she is woken up again. She gets dragged back out to the chair and strapped in once more. Hank stands before her and rants for a few minutes before asking his question. Her answer is the same. 

He injects her in the neck this time. She tries to brace herself for the same effects as before. But instead a weird feeling begins in the back of her head, a slight pressure causing a migraine. A prickling feeling generates from that area and spreads throughout her body. Once it consumes her, her body begins to shake and convulse. 

It lasts for minutes. By the end she blacks out as she had before. When she comes to she hears Hank’s voice telling her about what exactly that one was supposed to do, but she cannot figure out the words. She watches his mouth form the words of his question and she slurs out her answer. 

He punches her in the stomach this time, hard enough for her to vomit all over herself. He scoffs in disgust and calls for one of the guards to take her away. She is taken into the bathroom and is forced to clean herself. Then she is dragged onto the cot and a plate of food thrown at her. It takes the last of her energy to eat it. 

 

 

It takes her four more sessions with him before she finally builds up a regular amount of energy. She continues to feign weakness and sleep. When she knows her guards aren’t paying attention she does small exercises out of view, trying to maintain her muscle mass. Every time Hank pulls her out and asks her his question, she gives him her same answer. 

Each chem he has injected her with has had a different effect. Some of them have been worse than others. She can feel her body shaking as a result from the different chems but she pushes past the effect as best as she can with her limited resources. Before she goes to sleep every time, she goes through the layout of the vault in her mind. 

She tries not to think beyond the vault. About the last image she saw before they took her from the Castle. About how much time has possibly passed outside her personal hell. 

She watches the guards movements. They seem to switch each time she is taken out to her interrogation. There are three regulars who handle her personally. She has tested their strengths through sagging and forcing them to drag her. By know she knows which of the three is the weakest. Luckily for her he keeps a dagger not-so-well hidden tucked inside of his belt lining. 

She knows after each session that Hank walks past her room and towards the office at the end. She knows that he shuts himself in there to keep out prying eyes. They keep only four guards in the hallway between the lab and his office. Beyond that, she guesstimates around forty throughout the vault and maybe a handful in the house above. 

With all of this information gathered she formulates a plan. 

At her next one she prepares herself as best as she can. Her only problem was not knowing what kind of chem he would inject her with next; what the side effect would be. But she’s mentally ready, and she’ll just have to take the chance that this one will be the right time. 

As she is strapped in she watches the guards switch and the one she was hoping for takes place to the side. Hank rambles in front of her but she stopped listening a long time ago. When she hears the familiar sound of the question she gives the obligatory, “Fuck you.”

He doesn’t hesitate to grab her arm and inject the needle. “Unfortunately my next experimental batch isn’t quite ready yet, so this is one you’ve had before. It’s one of my personal favorites, however.”

Madalyn feels her heart slow and she feels a small sense of relief. Of the ones she’s had so far, this one felt not as bad afterwards. As it happens to her, however, it’s torment. 

When she wakes up from her blackout Hank stands in front of her with a hammer in his hands. She groggily looks at the tool and feels curiosity and fear at the sight of it. “Where is the Institute?”

“Fuck you,” she says without a waver in her voice. 

He rears back the hand with the hammer and slams it down on her kneecap. Madalyn instantly cries out in pain and fights against the bonds as it shoots up her body. “It only gets worse from here,” Hank tells her. He throws the hammer to the side and stalks off towards his office. 

The merc comes forward and loosens her bindings. He drags her up and across the floor towards her cell. She pushes against the pain as much as she can, hands clenching in retaliation to the signs coming from her body. She turns slightly in his grip, making sure the dagger is within her sight.

They enter the room and he starts towards the cot. Right before he shoves her towards it she slides her hand into its spot and grabs the dagger. 

When she pulls it out she makes sure it scrapes along his body, injuring him immediately. While he reacts to that movement she quickly aims upwards and slides the edge across his throat. 

His body falls to the ground hard and she stands there panting. She looks outside and sees no one coming running from the sound. Madalyn kneels next to his body, sticking out her bad leg to avoid bending the knee. At this point the pain has become too much that her adrenaline overtook all sensations. 

She checks his pockets and grabs his gun. She pockets everything she can find, moving as swiftly as she can. Her hands hit the familiar shape of a stimpak and her eyes almost tear in joy. Damning the consequences she jams the stimpak into her knee and pushes down to release the chem into the wound. 

She stands and tests putting weight on the leg. She feels a small bit of pain, either the stimpak or adrenaline keeping her from feeling it. Regardless, she holds the gun in her hand and keeps the dagger in her pants lining. Crouched low, she approaches the door and peers around the corner. Two guards stand leaning dejectedly against the wall by the lab. At the other end one sits in a chair close to the door to the office. 

She checks and makes sure that the gun is loaded. The basic 10mm in her hand holds only six bullets. She leans against the wall to where she can see the one in the chair. Lining up the shot with his head, she takes a deep breath to prepare for the consequences soon after, and squeezes the trigger. 

He drops to the ground fast and she moves her position to face the other two. They turn around confused by the sound and she shoots one fast. The other one runs towards her and she empties the clip into him as fast as she can and he drops a few feet away. 

Madalyn quickly scrambles forward and towards his body, grabbing everything that she can in sight. Another 10mm, sixteen more rounds, two stimpaks and a med-x. She comes across a few non-essentials but ignores them, wanting to only grab what would be the best weapon. When she gets to the one by the office door she recognizes him as the one who had carried her into the vault. More motivated she searches him quickly. Inside of his jacket pocket she finds the toy soldier and she grips it tightly in her hand. 

“Thank god,” she mumbles and she tucks it into her pants as securely as she can. 

Once done she stands before the office door and loads the 10mm with ten more rounds. She checks it to make sure that it’s good and then takes a deep breath. After a beat she reaches out and opens the door with her gun raised. 

Hank sits on the other side, reclined back in his chair behind the desk and watching the door. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, merely amused. “Ah, General. Full of surprises aren’t we.”

Madalyn keeps her gun pointed towards him as she looks around, trying to take in the objects in the room around her. Bookcases full of books line the wall to her right. The one behind his desk has shelves full of picture frames and other sentimental pre-war type items. In the corner sits a power armor station with a full suit of pre-war power armor with Vault-Tec style painting on it. Against the wall to the left is a fully operational cryo chamber. Once seeing that she glances back at the picture frames and inside sees pictures of a younger looking Hank with other people and at various places. 

“Who are you?” she asks, gun still aimed directly at his head. 

He smiles at her, “Now that’s a question isn’t it. Do you recognize that machine?” She doesn’t answer and he looks intrigued. “You do, don’t you? I do know that you came from a vault. Vault 111 right?” He brings his hand up to his chin in a mock thinking gesture. “Now let me think… 111… that was one we tested with the Cryogenic chambers I do believe. So you are from before the war, then? I thought everyone died in there.”

“Did you work for Vault-Tec?” she asks, hand shaking slightly. 

“Of course. This was my own personal vault. I was one of the lead scientists in the medicinal division. Hence the chems you’ve had the pleasure of experiencing. Of course my work is much different now than it used to be.”

“But why?” she asks. “Why now?”

“Why be awake now?” he asks, confirming. “I would wake every thirty years or so, see what was happening in the world. It took a while for me to learn that people were living out here and that civilization wasn’t wiped out completely. I would awaken, do some experiments and wander the world for a bit. Then go back into the chamber. But when I learned about the Institute… I decided I wanted to take up the opportunity.”

She studies him, thinking. “You don’t want to kill them to stop them. You want to take over and use it,” she realizes. 

He smiles, “Now isn’t that the thing. You see once I realized what kind of technology they had and what they were capable of doing, I couldn’t resist the idea of what I could do! If only I had more resources-“

She cuts him off with a squeeze of the trigger. His head jerks back with the force of the bullet and a red dot appears in his forehead. “You fucking bastard,” she spits at his corpse. 

She ignores his body as it slowly rolls to the ground. Instead she checks all of the drawers and cabinets in his room. She finds her armor tucked in a corner and dresses herself in it. As she’s checking one of the drawers in the desk she hears feet running down the hall towards the office. 

Madalyn rushes to the door and closes and locks it. She turns back around and finishes her search. By the end she comes up with a laser rifle, a submachine gun, random ammo for some weapons she doesn’t even have, four stimpaks and other assortments of chems, three Molotov cocktails and four frag grenades. She approaches the power armor and looks in the back slot. “Shit,” she curses when she sees no fusion core in place. She glances around the room once more and groans in frustration when knowing there is not one in the room. 

The mercs outside begin banging on the door and yelling. Madalyn glances at it and frowns. She makes sure all of her available weapons are loaded. She sets the cocktails and grenades within easy reach. Once sure she’s ready she grabs a frag grenade, takes off the pin and approaches the door. 

Madalyn opens the door and throws the grenade outside. She hears the men outside curse and run away as she ducks back into the safety of the room. The grenade explodes in a satisfactory boom and the sound of flesh tearing meets her ears. She grabs the laser rifle and holds it to the ready, aimed at the doorway. 

Silence fills the air for a moment before she hears a scuttling of movement from the hall. One merc peeks his head into the room and curses when he sees her. He shoots from behind the doorway and she shoots him square in the chest. Another comes charging in holding a baseball bat and she shoots him down fast. 

Three come in all at once and she grabs the Molotov cocktail and lobs it in their direction. Flames engulf the space they stand and one dies from that. The other two start shooting at her and she grabs the sub machine gun and starts returning the fire. As she takes down one a lick of flames reaches her arm and she cries out in pain. Angrily she shoots down the other and shoves a stimpak in her arm. She hears more movement in the hallway and with an annoyed grunt throws another grenade. 

Once that one goes off she move closer to the door and peaks outside. She sees only a pile of bodies and body pieces and she waits for more to come. When silence is all that follows she turns around and loots the bodies around her. 

By the time she clears them all she’s standing on the edge of the lab. She’s come up with more ammo, frag grenades, stimpaks et al. She glances around the room and her eyes fall on the chair. Madalyn grabs one of the cocktails and lobs it at the wooden chair, watching with satisfaction as it engulfs in flames. 

She hears a shout and she curses and ducks behind one of the counters. A handful of mercs stop at the other end of the lab and look around, cursing and yelling at each other. One of them calls out, “Where are ya? We know you’re here!”

Madalyn grabs a grenade and lobs it over the counter towards the group. After it explodes she stands and begins shooting at the group. 

It doesn’t take long for them all to die. She takes care of it post haste and then leaves the lab. She is more careful as she moves through the rest of the hall. Each merc hides in the rooms and a few try rushing her. She doesn’t think as she retaliates, taking down all that she sees. She takes more hits than she can keep track of and uses the stimpaks every time one is too big. 

When she reaches the control room a group of five stand waiting for her by the closed vault door. She had run out of stimpaks moments ago and she feels the pain starting again in her knee. There is a burn on her right shoulder still from the cocktail. Two bullet wounds in her hip. A slice from a machete on her left bicep. Possibly a few broken ribs from a baseball bat. She popped a med-x before approaching the room in an attempt to get past the pain. 

She limps into the control room and all of the mercs turn in her direction, weapons raised. They stare at her bloodied and bruised form for a moment. She takes a deep breath and straightens her posture, raising the gun in her hand. “You wanna do this?” she asks. 

They glance at each other awkwardly for a moment. First one lowers their weapon, then slowly the others follow suit. One hesitantly steps forward and approaches the control panel. He slams his hand down on the button to open and they all run towards the vault door as it slowly opens. 

When they are far enough away Madalyn allows herself to sag against a wall. She watches the vault door open through blurry eyes, the amount of exertion she’s had to do in such a short amount of time catching up to her. 

They disappear through the opening and Madalyn takes a few steps forward and onto the bridge, tasting the freedom so close. Her foot catches and she falls onto the ground. Yelling and gunshots reach her ears but before she can look up to investigate her world turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally two chapters but I gave it to you in one piece since it’s been so long. :)
> 
> I’m very sorry for the delay since my last post. Especially since I had said at the end of the last chapter I didn’t want to make you guys wait. 
> 
> I’ve had quite a bit happen lately. My sister got married. Work has been busy. I’ve recently started a new relationship. 
> 
> I also haven’t been writing because I’ve been working on my own novel that has had a writers block for months. I’m making progress on it and don’t want to stop. I technically haven’t written more of this story since my last update, this is something I had waiting. I wanted to post it to give you guys more as well as provide you all with an update. 
> 
> I will return to this story at some point. I wouldn’t be surprised if I lost my momentum on my other work soon enough. I do love this and want it to continue to grow and finish it! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!  
> I hope to see you soon!! <3


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